


Frail Equilibrium

by JadedPandaGirl



Series: "Retired" Stories [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action, Adventure, Demons, F/M, Gen, Horror, Other, Teenagers, Witches, this is not a friendship it's a bloody circus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 159,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedPandaGirl/pseuds/JadedPandaGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before his days as a seasoned demon hunter, before he conquered Temen Ni Gru, before he defeated Mundus, Dante was an arrogant little punk. A little down on his luck in his teens, he takes up residence in an apartment block run by a family with a few odd secrets. Particularly his troublesome red-head neighbor. Then again, Tess Templar has an air about her that says there is more to her than her attitude. And while they try to sort out the mess they call 'a friendship', the city around them is spiraling into insanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. House of Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I ever wrote for DMC. I feel OLD. It's the mothership. All my subsequent fanfics and the expanded universe I created through them stems from this crazy old thing. It'd be unfair to change it much now. 
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy it. It's already completed on [FF.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3909259/2/Frail-Equilibrium) but I will be slowly uploading it here asap. Might even be up before next weekend.

Roy hated winter. The city hadn’t seen such a cold October in many years, as far as he could recall. It was bitter, windy and the cloudy sky didn’t seem to promise any improvement. He shuddered under his thick, shabby coat and looked up from sweeping the steps leading up to the front door, examining the empty street with a frown as the few street-lights were finally coming to a weak-willed life. With the longer nights and less daylight creeping into the time-zone, the middle-aged man was feeling oddly nostalgic and he cast a glance up to the building he took care of: The aged apartment complex stood quiet and unassuming under the late evening, having endured many past years of cold winter-times with him. It was a sturdy building, three stories high, dating back to the late seventies when Roy had first arrived here, while the entire neighborhood was still under development and expanding. He sighed a little, reminiscent of those times. Faded wall-art and the optimistic slogans of that long-gone era were nearly erased from walls, gnawed away like a dog's bone from the weather, graffiti and the occasional bullet-hole.

Roy pulled a wry face briefly and kept sweeping, the broom ushering the last bits of dirt off the steps and into the street. Then he climbed back the short flight of stairs to the door. Thinking of the past made him grumpy. He thought to himself that he had lived long enough to see the same hopeful place descend into a ghetto where neglect, crime and hopelessness prevailed. He saw it reflected on the building’s aged, graying sand color wash, blotched with darker spots where humidity had corroded the original paint and bits of plaster had fallen off. Yet he didn’t have the means to restore it--or the time and mood. He wiped that depressing thought off his mind. He had other things to attend to now, like the leaky pipe in the basement or the cracked window sill on the second floor that let a hell of a draft in.

Inside the lobby of the building, as he crossed it to go into the corridor where the broom cupboard was, _she_ passed him by quietly, coming from the lounge room. They did not pay any attention to each other besides an unspoken acknowledgment. She passed in front of the worn counter that stood right next to a large staircase leading upstairs. Roy glanced behind the counter momentarily, at his desk. The foreman's booth was presently empty but he noted with approval that the small glass filled three quarters with tangerine liquor was still there. The lithe figure opened a door beside the desk and went inside, into the ground-floor house of the owner. As the door opened, a radio could be heard playing a mellow lounge song in low volume.

To a stranger, the room beyond the door would have looked like nothing more than an old fashioned study, but for her it was a welcome refuge, what with all those books lining the room almost up to the ceiling. It was rather cramped and dark but lived in, the radio humming to itself on an end table next to a large old arm chair; a reclusive retreat from the troubles of the outside world. She shuffled through the haphazard piles of more books and tomes littering the floor, the shelves and even the second armchair in the other side of the room by a window and glanced at a few of the papers scattered haphazardly on the desk as she passed it. Reaching the armchair she lowered into it with a contented sigh, turning the radio up a notch. She then leaned down and fished another dusty book out of a cardboard box at its feet and thumbed through it absently until it found what looked like a point of interest and pulled her legs up on the armchair, curling comfortably for a good read.

It was a perfectly still, dull evening in the near-abandoned neighborhood that was about to be interrupted. She looked up and out the window suddenly, as if something had caught her attention.

Braving the bitter cold, a teenager no older than sixteen walked down the street. He shrugged a bit at the cold and quietly wished he'd been stuck someplace across the country with warm beaches instead. He was burdened with a single, over-sized duffel bag that seemed to contain everything he had, slung over his shoulder casually and borne with an absent ease. Not even the addition of what seemed to be the hilt a heavy broad sword poking out a wrapping of canvas and secured to a strap on the back of his coat did much to add to his burden. As he passed under the street lamps, the harsh light glinted off the cross-guard, adorned with a horned skull. The eye sockets were dull and empty but the spiked finish on the handle glinted sharply in the light.

His baggy, green-brown pants, black t-shirt and a long, deep red trench coat weren't enough protection against the cold, but he refused to shiver. Only the wind blowing directly into his face made him squint his eyes slightly, to keep them from stinging, while his white hair whipped around untamed. He could see his breath turn to a slight haze in the cold air, but acted like it was nothing, preferring to ignore the cold entirely.

While walking, he thought to himself: _Better find this god-damned building soon, before I freeze my ass off!_

The guy in that bar that he had first crashed had seemed a bit dubious and not particularly trustworthy, but he had said that this was where someone like him could find a decent digs to crash in for a while. He had warned him though, to look out for the weird owners. The teenager laughed at that thought, _As if I care._

He stopped outside and looked up at the building. It seemed to be in a slightly better condition than the buildings near and around it, but it still wasn’t anything highly impressive. It had an eerie feel of age, decay and wear of time about it, as many old buildings in that neighborhood did, he noticed. The front door seemed to be cracked open a bit. His eyes lit up a tiny bit. About time!

 _Open door; open invitation!_ he thought. Pushing the door, he let himself inside. It had rusty hinges and its lock seemed to be faulty; it stuck slightly against the floor and then opened with a sharp creak.

As he opened the door, Dante cringed slightly at the sound of music drifting through a door beside the service counter. He couldn’t stand that sort of lounge music and it took all his willpower to ignore it and not turn and leave then and there. But between the cold and tolerating some old-fashioned radio music, Dante preferred the latter. He made his way to the unattended counter by the main staircase and dropped his bag to rest by his feet. He leaned his arm over the counter with a tired and impatient huff as his eyes wandered over the desk. He didn’t see any bell, so he called out impatiently.

“Hey, anyone around ‘ere?” he called, his voice echoing slightly down a short hallway that he figured led to a communal kitchen of some kind.

He could hear sounds coming from a door that probably led to a basement and figured that someone should be there. Meanwhile, he leaned his back against the counter and took in the look of the room around him. It was decent, tidy and even a little welcoming. True, he admitted that the graying rug stretching from the door to the counter bore obvious signs of wear and some burns from cigarette ashes, but the floor seemed to be cleaned regularly. It had all the hallmarks of an old-style student boarding house. Dante got off the counter and took a few steps towards the staircase when a floorboard creaked under his foot. He paused to see if anyone had heard the noise.

 _Huh, that could do with a couple extra nails,_ he thought and took his foot off the offensive board.

He looked up and noticed that the ceiling too could use a re-plastering, but the walls had a modest, ashen color-wash and the windows were all spotless. The counter in front of him was neatly arranged, except for a glass with some sweet smelling liquor left beside a paperback book—a Stephen King novel—placed face down, open on the desk. He thought that someone had been reading here just a while ago, so his presence would not go unnoticed.

Unfortunately, the front door was still open a just a little; it probably had a loose hinge or swollen wood that kept it from shutting properly, because his coat waved softly from the breeze coming in through the rattling door. But overall he got the feeling that this place, despite its age and faults, was being taken good care of. Dante turned around again when the door to the basement opened slightly and a man’s graying head poked from behind it and spoke with a lisp that Dante thought was vaguely British or something like that.

“Who’s there?” the mid-aged man demanded, and then before Dante could answer he went on in a huff: “Look, if you’re selling anything, you have thirty seconds to get the hell off my property; if you’re here to rob you’re as good as dead and if you’re here to stay…then hold on to your pants, I’ll be there in a moment.” He vanished back downstairs.

Dante had caught only a glimpse of him in the lack of light in the corridor in front of the basement door; he looked like forty. Dante cracked a smile and thought he seemed to have a sense of humor.

“Hey, just trying to get outta the cold!” he replied in a baritone voice, with a dismissive shrug. “Take your time.”

He kept smirking at the thought of the old man’s threat to kill him. It’d be fun to watch him try!

“You wish,” Dante muttered to himself with a grin.

While he waited, he walked from the wall with the counter to the middle of the lobby and looked around curiously, taking in the new surroundings while stuffing his hands in his pockets idly. He was already taking a bit of a liking to the place. It was quiet, certainly, but that meant he could get the privacy he wanted. He cast a look at the wall across the counter and walked over closer to get a better look of the picture of a woman hanging on the wall. She was no older than eighteen, with a slightly dark skin complexion, long, wavy black hair and green eyes filled with laughter set into a pretty face.

The picture had been taken in this very lobby, although it looked like it was in better condition in the photo than it was in the present. He smiled a little, hoping the girl lived there now. She sat on the very same wide staircase that rose in from the corner of the room to the floor above and laughed at the camera, while her delicate fingers twined together, hugging her knees. She was clad in a casual, knee-length dress of denim over black tights. She had a sand-colored sash around her waist and a purple band in her hair to keep back. It was a pretty girl indeed and he wouldn’t mind having her as a neighbor.

_Huh, pretty lady. Kinda reminds me of—_

He dropped the thought, frowning at himself. He didn’t need to dwell on those thoughts now. He turned back around to the counter. He hadn’t noticed the warmth of the building thawing him out from the cold outside. The door rattled slightly and his hair flicked over his face; he’d already forgotten how cold it was out there.

The door of the basement creaked again, making Dante turn his attention to the man who stepped out, shutting it behind him and turning the lock. Dante’s brows bowed up a little; this guy turned out to be almost a full head taller than Dante had expected—an error that the young man didn't make often. The man wiped his large hands with a piece of dirty cloth and Dante mentally noted that, for someone who looked like forty and with a pretty lean build, this guy had fairly large arms and looked pretty strong. Add to it that he was wearing a red-plaid shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Dante thought he resembled a tall tale’s lumberjack come to life.

 _Something about this guy, though..._ he thought. _Not just any old landlord. He's not a demon, but..._

Dante noticed that the man was sizing him up with a sharp gaze from behind a slightly wrinkled face with stubble, while moving behind the counter. The teenager smirked a little, stuffing his hands in his pockets audaciously, without care about what impression the old man got. He wasn't about to pretend he was a 'good boy' just to get a place to crash. Instead, he returned the stare bravely, watching the old man take in his curious appearance. Dante could already tell a few things about this guy; though not particularly old, the inherent air of authority and confidence in those gray eyes gave Dante the impression of many years of hard experience. The man didn't strike him as threatening, but he definitely had the presence of one who was used to giving orders, and the impression was amplified by that persistent accent, as if the man had spent a long time in foreign land.

“So…want a place to stay, eh?” he said. "You into drugs, kid?” he added more sharply when Dante nodded, placing his hands on the desk and leaning his weight on them, to look at the boy more closely.

 _Doesn't beat around the bush._ Dante put on a cocky little smile and replied, “Is pizza a drug?”

If the man was amused by the kid’s audacity, he didn’t show it. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height and glared down at Dante with quite an assertive look.

“Do I look like I’m joking? The last thing I need here is another bratty punk. Last snotty assrat that tried to conduct shady business in here is rotting away in the slammer with buckshot stuck in his buttocks," he said, nodding at the door with his chin and a look as if he was recalling something unpleasant or troublesome. “Now, you don’t do drugs, you don’t drink and you’re not into any illegal things that you bring here…are you?” he asked, with a look that Dante interpreted as, ‘I’m not taking any bull’.

Dante let a little sigh, thinking to himself, So much for a sense of humor.

However, the urge to be a complete punk had deserted him before the need for a roof over his head. Besides, by the look of the neighborhood, Dante comprehended the old man's desire to avoid trouble in his boarding house. It looked like a reasonable place to stay and the man obviously didn’t want problems or its reputation tarnished. Dante understood reputations, he could live with that. It probably meant less trouble for him too.

He stared at the guy directly in the eye and replied seriously “No, Sir. Nothing illegal, dodgy or even slightly naughty.”

Another blast of wind howled inside the lobby through the rattling door and hit his back. _I just want to warm up, dammit. Why won’t that wind let the hell up?_

For a moment, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, from a door near the counter and his icy stare darted to it. But there was nothing there, just the door swaying shut softly with a little creak. He thought his eyes were just playing tricks on him and he returned his attention to the landlord. The man now nodded, finally pleased, as far as Dante could judge. He was less assertive now.

“Hmm, well then,” he muttered, putting on a pair of glasses as he sat at the desk. Dante tilt his head a little, thinking the glasses now gave the man the look of some kind of scholar as he opened a log book, looking up and down a page. He noted something in it with a pen and then turned it around so it faced Dante, putting the pen on it.

“Right, sign in your name and fill in the form here, kid,” he said in a very business-like manner, picking up the glass on the counter and taking a sip.

Dante picked up the pen, eying the old man and replying decisively “My name’s Dante. I’m sixteen, not a kid. Call me dude, bud, guy, sir—heck, even son. Just don’t call me kid.”

A gust chilled his back again and he made a small face of annoyance. That was getting frustrating! Filling in the form presented to him, he stowed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a few dollar bills and some antique, gold coins. He hesitated a little and then decided to place a couple of those coins on the counter, hoping they’d interest the old man.

At his response, the man had raised an eyebrow initially and then chuckled, shaking his head and adding a note to the logbook after inspecting it. He sounded kinder now. "Fine, ‘dude’. I’m Roy and I run and maintain this cozy little wreck. Welcome to our building.”

Dante wanted to smirk but the wind was getting worse and it made the front door rattle against its frame violently. It obviously began to annoy Roy as well, as Dante watched him curse the door under his breath when the noise got worse. Roy straightened his glasses a bit, copying some notes from the logbook into another quickly and efficiently.

Suddenly the door shut softly with a louder click, as if forced shut and the wind ceased, but for the howling outside.

“Oh, thanks, Tess. I guess those hinges need tweaking again” Roy said, looking over his glasses at someone behind Dante, who looked over his shoulder.

Dante did a double take. A girl around his age stood leaning against the door, her arms loosely folded over her chest; her _flat_ chest, he noticed, with some dismay. Mentally he huffed at her thinness and small stature, emphasized by the loose-fitting clothes –jeans and a black hoodie shirt—she was wearing; he had hoped to see the woman he’d seen in the photo.

He couldn’t exactly call her pretty; her face was well-shaped, her jaw had soft lines and her long hair was a rich, deep red. There was even a cute burst of freckles across her nose. But her overly pale skin and her cold, stiff look spoiled the good features. She had a very sharp and inquisitive appearance, like a bird of prey; especially her eyes –same hue as a green gemstone, he thought—as she met his gaze in a confident, unafraid manner; her eyes were so icy they felt colder than the howling wind outside.

 _Pretty mess_ he thought about her hair, tied in an unattractive and haphazard ponytail, with some rogue locks trailing to the side of her face. _Crazy chick,_ was his opinion about everything else as he sighed mentally. He was hoping to see that pretty girl from the photo or any other attractive young woman and instead he was faced with what looked like a cold, skinny little bitch instead.

Concealing his irritation, a glance was all he offered in reply to her cold stare. There was something a little unnerving in that girl’s detached stare, but he ignored it, looking back to Roy and wondering out loud, “Sure is damn cold this early in the season!”

He waited for the old man to finish his paperwork, while tapping his foot on the floor. His boots made somewhat of an annoying sound, but at least he kept a good beat, along with his impatient sigh. Roy finally noticed the coins Dante had left on the counter. He eyed Dante with a 'may I?' look, to which Dante nodded, before he picked one up examined both its sides with interest. The girl looked on without talking.

“Hmm…interesting,” he muttered, looking at the coins over and over again.

He glanced at Dante again, then looked over his shoulder at the girl called Tess, briefly and then collected the coins. “Very interesting. I know something of old coins," he concluded. "Are you sure you want to use them to pay? I'd estimate you can cover about four months of rent, plus bills. I'd like to hear where you got these, sometime. You don’t look like a typical collector.”

Still leaning on the door, Tess rolled her eyes and then moved past Dante and around the counter to take a look at the coins herself, with a blank, uninterested look on her face. Then she cast a look at Roy’s logbook.

She spoke in a flat, dry manner, “Give him 2F.”

She glanced at Dante making only brief eye-contact, yet he could almost feel her gaze pierce him. Her voice and eyes could have been kind of sweet and pleasant, if she weren't so cold and cross.

Roy looked up at her, over his glasses, "Eh? What was that?”

Dante’s attention was drawn to her when she spoke. She must have been Roy’s relation or something, if she had so much involvement with boarding the tenants.

She gave the same, flat response, “Give him 2F.”

“Why? What’s wrong with 1D?” he protested.

“2F doesn’t have leaks,” the girl replied. She glanced at Dante who graced her with a small smile to which she gave no reaction, and then walked back towards the door from which she had entered earlier, to the side of the counter and shut it behind her.

"What?! _Again_?" Roy groaned.

Dante shrugged. He could thank her later. Right now he was just too glad that he had secured a place to live in after so much wandering. He looked over to Roy and nodded in an expectant way, “2F, then?”

Roy frowned briefly at the scene that passed –as if offended—and then gave his head a slight shake, tossing a pair of keys to Dante.

“Yep. Pick up your stuff, son. Don’t let your things just roll around here. Follow me.”

He got out from behind the counter and beckoned to Dante, who hastened to pick up his bag and proceeded up the wide flight of stairs to the upper floor, following the foreman. Funny enough, he sort of liked the old man’s rambling. It felt oddly welcoming and soothing.

“You’re on the second floor, apartment F. Funny thing, Tess lives on the same floor too. She’s the owner’s granddaughter. She can’t stand her grandmother so she lives alone,” Roy muttered, climbing the staircase. He glanced over his shoulder at Dante. “Don’t get fresh with her, by the way, for your own good. You might not wake up the next morning. Nasty little thing. You get on her wrong side, all hell breaks loose.”

Dante heard that but smirked. _Hell,_ he thought with a chuckle, _if only you knew old man!_

It was a bit funny that she had settled him on the same floor as herself. He hadn’t even spoken to her and she apparently already liked him!

At least, that’s what _he_ thought.

Then a different thought crossed his mind, _Wait, the owner’s granddaughter? Funny, I thought **he** was the owner. Wonder who else lives here, then. Lady in that photo? Nah, too recent for her to be old enough to be a grannie._

Roy interrupted his thoughts as he bounded up the last few steps and into a long corridor with several doors lining both walls. Dante could see a large terrace door at the end of the hallway, opening to a balcony of what should be the back of the apartment complex. He also took note of a communal bathroom was marked out among the other doors. That worried him a bit but then again this was an old boarding house for students, or so he’d been told, and it made sense. The building was very quiet, it was entirely possible that it was just him and the sour-faced girl here. Interesting.

 _That should be fun..._ he thought.

“And about her grandmother, you don’t ever go into the owner’s house uninvited—it’s the door you saw Tess go into. And if you see the old lady, just keep out of her way. You cross Magda Templar, she never lets you forget it. Compared to her, Tess is just an angry little vixen. I've worked for her all these years, don’t know anyone who can step up to her for too long,” he muttered, stopping at the door of the apartment Dante was to have.

“Right, here’s your hole. Make yourself at home then get some clean sheets from the laundry room. Just letting you know, you take care of your own trash, your groceries and your laundry—which is in the basement, you get there from the lobby. If anything gets busted or needs fixing, you come down and let me know. Don’t try to do anything yourself. I best be keeping this thing standing myself. If you need anything, eh, I’m around. Follow tool sounds, I always seem to be fixing this or that,” he chuckled. “Or talk to Tess, if you have to. She might be cranky, but she isn't bad. Welcome, mister Dante, hope you enjoy your stay,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Thanks, Roy,” Dante said, chuckling in spite himself.

He watched as the landlord took his leave down the stairs, hands in his pockets. The old man wasn’t so bad and Dante felt he could actually come to like him.

He opened the door to his apartment and pushed it open. The apartment inside was dark as he looked in, due to the closed windows and a bit cold. It was nothing more than two rooms that didn’t even have a door between them. One would serve as a general living room and mundane kitchen with a small refrigerator and room for other appliances, a sofa, a small table and a ceiling light, while the other was a bedroom with a plain bed, a night-table and a drawer stand. Dante had a quick peek at the communal bathroom too. It was a bit small and cramped, but at least it was perfectly clean and had a working shower stall.

He went back into his apartment and shut the door behind him, set his large bag down at the foot of the bed, and pushed the bag under it. He took off the wrapped sword and dropped it at his feet. He stood straight and dropped on the bare bed on his back. It creaked heavily as he landed on it and he let a small sigh of satisfaction.

 _Finally, a decent, cheap place to live in!_ He inhaled slightly and smiled. Even the bare mattress had a light clean smell, unlike the odor he’d experienced in other places.

He stretched, still lying on the bed, and some more of those old coins and some dollars jingled in his pocket, two of the old coins slipping out, glinting in the gloom. He stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering what he should do first. His stomach clenched a little and gave a slight growl. _Gotta get some food, I guess._

He picked himself up off the bed and opening the door, headed out along the hall, down the stairs and into the lobby again. It was quiet, but for the soft hum of the radiator in the basement below. He saw some light coming from the counter near the door as he came down the stairs and thought it might be Roy, but when he got close enough to see past the bit of wall obscuring his vision, he realized Tess was there, sitting and writing in a logbook.

Though she must've heard him on the stairs, she paid him no attention and instead remained focused on the paperwork in front of her. She wrote neatly with the cheap ballpoint pen in her right hand. Dante noted that she winced a little as she worked, probably because her right hand was wrapped in bandage around the palm and wrist. She had a completely different look to her when she wasn’t frowning. Her look was still a bit detached, but now had a touch of serenity in the place of the earlier hostility.

Dante's approach cast some shade over her writing, as he placed his elbows on the counter and looked right at her as she wrote. “Hey. Thanks for the room, it’s perfect,” he said smoothly.

She paused her writing, looked back at him with a rather unfeeling, but inquisitive look in her eyes, as if sizing him up carefully.

“You’re welcome,” she replied dryly after a moment of hesitation. Then she looked back down, continuing her writing. “Do you need anything?”

He wasn’t deterred by her icy manner; in fact it was downright funny and he felt the absurd desire to prod at her until she cracked. At least, he thought it was fun to counter it with what he thought would be reverse psychology.

“Actually I do need a little favor. Could you point me towards the closest store around here?” he asked with a tone of calm civility.

She put down her pen and flexed her wrist a little, with an annoyed look before she replied. “There’s a general store a block from here. I’ll show you where it is, since I need something myself, now that I think about it.”

She got out from behind the counter and picked up a blue denim jacket from the hanger by the door, put it on and opened the front door. A blast of cold air came in to whip her hair back, but a small shrug was all the reaction she gave. In fact, the wind seemed to almost pull back from her coldness. She didn’t even give a glance back to see if he followed, as she stepped outside.

“Try to keep up, because I won’t wait for you,” she only said. She sounded less cross than before, but she probably didn’t care enough to be openly nice to him. Still, the gesture of walking him to the store was nice.

Dante gave a small shrug and followed closely behind the young woman, his coat blowing in the wind and his hair taking unpredictable lashes at his face. Like his new female guide though, he too paid little attention to the cold. As they walked, he took the time to admire her figure as subtly as possible, trying hard not to smirk. She was shorter than him; her figure either not fully formed yet, or poorly formed. She was lithe and light-footed, but he almost frowned at her lack of obvious curves and she was so puny that she couldn’t weigh more than a kitten.

Not entirely without perks though, he thought; her hair was attractive, she had nice-looking legs and a firm—

He strained real hard not to smirk and thought to himself, _You sure know how to pick 'em, Dante!_ But the cold attitude she had shown so far ruined what charms she physically had. To his surprise, she proved to be aware of his checking her out.

“When you’re done staring at my butt,” she said with some contempt as she walked on, “the store is right around the corner. Ignore the old tobacco lady. She’s a bit nuts.”

The store she indicated was nestled between two older buildings and at present rather quiet. It wasn’t too big or fancy, being a general store. Its sign mentioned that it also included a pharmacy and a tobacco stand.

Dante feigned offense at her remark. “I wasn't staring at your butt!” He then muttered: “If I wanted some action, I wouldn't go picking up a twig like you!”

Tess frowned, turning abruptly to look over at him. Her eyes now more than just cold, were hard and had a glint of anger in them. “Jerk,” she spat at him, and pushed the store’s door open sharply.

She entered the store with an angry step. As soon as she entered, the white-haired, old Hispanic woman that held the tobacco stand next to the door raised her glassy eyes from her knitting. Upon seeing Tess she glared at the girl, her previously benign expression turned to almost loathsome, as if the red-head distressed and angered her horribly. Dante watched this with mild interest.

The old woman gave a mumbled hiss as Tess passed in front of her. “Curse you, witch!" she hissed in a Spanish dialect: "Go back to hell, witch!"

An employer from the pharmacy counter nearby glared at the old woman apprehensively. "Grandma, shut up!" he fired back at her in the same dialect.

Tess just ignored the insult blatantly - but her head still drooped as she headed for the pharmacy counter.

Dante stared sideways at the tobacco lady as she hissed at Tess. Had the old lady said ‘witch’? Okay, she’s snappy and short-tempered, but ain’t ‘witch’ too much?

Meanwhile, Tess stopped at the pharmacy counter and the round-faced clerk on duty there seemed much friendlier to her than the old lady had been.

“Hi Tess. What happened to your hand?” he asked, when she leaned against the counter on her elbows, laying her bandaged hand on it towards him. She was still straight faced, but her expression was more relaxed.

“Hi Peter. Burned myself and it's killing me. I need some kind of balm, if you have any.” she said.

The clerk winced a little at her stern austerity, but obliged, undoing the bandage from her hand and taking a look at the burn under it. “Ow, that does look pretty bad. How’d did that happen?” he asked, treating her hand with a medical balm he took off a shelf.

“I just got clumsy in the kitchen,” Tess replied, with a completely straight face. She winced only when a particularly sensitive part of the burn ached.

When he passed behind her to head deeper into the nearly empty store, Dante cast a glance at her hand. His eyes widened a little at the sight of the burn. _If that’s a kitchen burn, I’m the frickin’ Pope. It’s like she picked up a handful of hot coals!_ he thought, looking at the extent of the burn. Almost the whole palm was afflicted; it was red in places and the skin had been peeled off, revealing raw skin underneath. Where the burns were deepest, faint scabbing was forming. It looked painful, judging by the way Tess winced as the pharmacist treated her burns and then wrapped it in bandage again.

The old woman at the tobacco counter still glared at her, while the redhead bought the packet of balm the clerk used on her hand and some single-use bandages, then looked over at Dante, waiting for him to finish. When he glanced back at her, he noted that Tess didn’t want to show it, but she was troubled by the woman’s glaring. Her stiff shrug and averted eyes made him think she felt pierced by that look.

He knew how she felt; the old woman had glared at him too, the moment he set foot in the store, though with less ferocity than she had for Tess. She had settled her glance on Dante for just a moment, then returned her sharp, hawk-like glare towards Tess.

“Please, stop it. Leave us alone,” Tess said sharply but quietly to the old woman, who looked taken aback.

Eavesdropping seemed to be the order of the day, because while Dante raided the shelves for the things he wanted, he overheard two other clerks talking with hushed voices behind him.

“Is that guy with that Tess girl? _The_ Tess?”

“Seems so. Funny looking guy.” There was a slight pause. “Maybe he's an albino."

"Gosh, I hope he's not her boyfriend. You know what an icy little bitch she is.”

Dante smirked, seeing this kind of universal agreement about her temper. “Yup, I am here with the Twig,” he said, poking his head around the corner the two clerks were talking, just to spook them.

A girl about twenty and a slightly older man looked back in surprise and some embarrassment. The girl wasn’t anything spectacular to look at and the young man was a tall, stocky Hispanic with a round face who looked a little bit like the clerk at the pharmacy counter.

“Whoa, sorry man. Didn’t see you there,” the girl said.

“Dude, don’t tell her we were talking about her. She’s weird. Are you staying at the boarding house? They're kind of nuts,” the other one said, tapping his temple with a finger, a gesture suggesting insanity. “You sign a death wish or somethin’?” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he went back to hauling cardboard boxes.

Turning around to keep to his business, Dante caught Tess’ look fixed on him from the wall she was leaning on. She probably heard everything but he didn’t feel sorry for her. It was no wonder everyone seemed to have a bad opinion about her; she didn’t even try to soften her behavior around others.

He gave her a sly smirk over his shoulder. “I’m with the Twig,” he repeated, sure she could understand what he said. Surely enough she scowled at him for the nickname, but made no response.

He hauled his loot—mostly canned drinks, ready-to-eat meals and microwave dinners—to the checkout. Just when it was getting tallied up, he felt inside his pocket for money and realized he had left most of it (most importantly the dollar bills) back at the apartment! They must've slipped out of his pocket when he dumped himself on the bed.

The cashier, a buxom, beady-eyed young woman looked at him expectantly, waiting. He bit his lip, quietly calling himself an idiot and dreading that he’d have to abandon his haul. Suddenly Tess stepped in; she leaned over the side of the counter to talk to the woman.

“Hey Juls. He forked out his last dollars to Roy for an apartment. Mind starting a tab for him? I’ll make sure he comes back to pay later,” she said casually.

The cashier woman stared from Tess to Dante pointedly then shrugged. “Hmph, fine by me, but make sure he comes back before Monday, Tess. So what name?” she said in a low-pitched voice.

Dante was left a little flabbergasted from the way Tess boldly stepped in and set him up like that. “Er…Dante,” he said, still staring at the red-head and muttered a word of thanks. She just shrugged and turned for the door as the cashier packed Dante’s things in a paper bag and handed it to him. As she passed by the tobacco lady, she was again subjected to the old woman’s shrewd look.

“Witch…!” she hissed at the young girl, ignoring the pained and apprehensive looks from the other employees of the store.

Tess just opened the door and stepped outside, trying to look completely unconcerned, but her lowered head and dull look spelt otherwise. She actually looked ashamed for a moment.

Dante had picked up the bag and followed her out, staring the old woman down with a rather mean glare that was followed by an amused smile. The old woman was definitely crazy and unreasonably mean to the red-head, for no good reason. He walked quickly, to catch up with the girl and kept following, a pace or so behind. Night had sailed in for good and only the street lamps and store signs illuminated the street.

“Think you’ll be able to find your way back here or will I have to walk you here again?” she said to him without turning.

He looked at her with a matter-of-fact raise of the brow. “I think I can manage. But will you _want_ to walk me back again, in case I don’t?”

She didn’t look back at him as she curtly replied: “No. Don’t flatter yourself because I spared you a scene back there. You making a scene meant I had to endure a scene, and I'd rather not have to, thank you.”

Dante chuckled and looked away with a grin. “Yeah, right! You did that because you like me. Just like the apartment thing and just like you volunteered yourself to walk me there in the first place! And who can blame you! I'm not a bad lookin' guy!”

She stopped and stared at him, this time with a rather odd look, like a cat eying up a dog. “Is that what you think?” she asked with a hint of a smile, an angry kind of smile - a _wicked_ smile.

He stopped and looked at her sideways, taking in that weird look of hers. He might’ve hit a nerve there, it seemed. “I think you wouldn't do all that for just anyone. There's something behind your mild kindness, be it you really do like me or something I'm not catching onto.

She chuckled sarcastically, turning away slightly, so he could only see her profile. “My kindness!” she echoed with a snort. She looked angry for a moment - not at him, just angy. “Oh, of course I like you,” she added with equal sarcasm. “I want you, I need you, oh baby, _baby,_ ” she said in a mock pleading tone, and bringing the back of her hand to her forehead as if she wanted to faint: “I burn, I pine, I _perish_ without you.”

Dante just stared. That reaction was not what he had expected.

“Didn’t you hear the old bat call me a witch? What they say? I’m a shrew, a bitch,” she said sharply, with reserved anger and ample bitterness. She clearly had been bottling this up and he managed to make himself into her venting target. Then her tone turned to a mocking sing-song: “ _’Witch, witch, you’re a bitch’_ that’s what you’ll hear about me. Everyone will tell you that. So stop pretending you haven't already decided that I'm a bitch and that you can be my best buddy just being smart-mouthed and sassy."

Finally feeling offended, he retorted. “Hey, hey, slow down!” he said. “I ain't decided squat, _you're_ the one crawling up my ass about this over nothing!" he snapped. "I got news for you, _Twig!_ I'm not the kind of person you want to use as a punching bag because I can hit right back. But I guess it's lucky for you I'm not such an asshole!"

He stormed on towards the apartment building without her. A shrew indeed! And for a moment he’d thought her likable. There was nothing to like about that stuck-up, arrogant, angry little shrew of a girl.

She watched him go, a slightly mocking grin creeping around her lips. “Well, he’ll be a load of fun. He’s touchy,” she muttered. _But he’s right. There is more to him, just not what he wants me to think,_ she went on in her mind, quietly making her way back to the apartment after him.

In the building’s lobby, Roy relaxed behind the counter, slowly sipping down some of his drink and reading. When the front door opened, Dante walked in. He saw Roy's relaxed drinking and for a moment forgot how much Tess had pissed him off.

He smiled and asked with a chuckle in his voice, “Hey, Roy! You share any of that?”

Roy pointedly stared back with a smirk. “Not with a minor and certainly not _my_ liquor. But I see she took you sightseeing. How do you like the little shrew?” he chuckled.

Dante's bitterness returned suddenly and he muttered aloud as he walked passed Roy and made his way to his room, thudding up the stairs as he climbed them: “I could do without the Twig.”

Roy chuckled further and called after him. “If you need to change those coins to dollars, call me!” he said, and took another sip of his liquor, just as Tess came through the door herself. “Well hello there. Did you trample all over him yet?” he asked her, nodding towards the floor above.

Tess took off her jacket. “No. But the day’s not over yet,” she said, stretching her arms over her head with a faint yawn. “You've noticed too, by the way?”

Roy gave her a puzzling smirk. “Oh, I have. I'm waiting to see if you can figure it out.”

“I'll try,” she replied.

“By the by, your grandmother is looking for you.”

Tess’ brows bowed up. “Oh? What's the insufferable hag want?”

Roy gave her a scolding look. “She wants to talk to you.”

Tess cringed. “If this is about him,” she said, pointing to the upper floor. “I'd rather not have her exploding all over my face again.”

“Just go. You're better than me at dealing with her” Roy replied. “And about that dre—“

Tess interrupted him, opening the door to the owner's part of the building. “We've _been_ through that, Roy. You made yourself clear. So did Grams. I’ve made my point. I prefer to go on as a mad shrew than a sane liar,” she said decisively and went through the door, shutting it behind her.

Meanwhile, Dante unloaded his groceries, tossing the paper bag on the small counter in his room. He dropped his coat on the sofa and took his time putting away his things, deciding what he wanted for dinner.

 _Well, it was a rough day up to now and in the absence of pizza…better go with the Salisbury steak!_ he thought, left out his dinner and put the rest of his stuff away.

He took his meal and went downstairs to find Roy still enjoying his drink and book. He walked up to the counter and before he asked what he wanted he looked at the odd, sweet-smelling drink in the man’s glass. “What are you drinking anyway?"

Roy looked up at him with a little guilty grin. “Liquor made from tangerine. My only vice. I import this liquid heaven from Spain,” he chuckled merrily. He looked mellower than he had before, but that could have been the liquor’s doing. “You know, I’m impressed. You really gave the little wench a run for her money today.”

Dante blinked. “I did?”

Roy maintained a small smirk. “You got a rise out of her! I haven’t seen her so…hmm, _social_ in a while. She’s an oddball and a mean little bitch when she wants to, won’t respond to people. I’m surprised you got a peep out of her. Probably caught her off guard. The old lady at the store called her a ‘witch’ again, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. What’s with that granny anyway?”

Roy chuckled, taking a sip of his liquor. “Hell if I know. Old bat’s senile. Got it into her head that Tess is some ginger devil child. But, I guess you could say ‘witch’ fits Tess like a glove. She’s a strange kid. Always seems to be angry,” he added, drinking again and looking to the side. He suddenly looked concerned. “But you know…she’s actually quite a sad little thing.”

Dante’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? Whaddaya mean?”

Roy cringed. "Welp, I've said too much," he muttered, putting his glass down and tapping his finger against it. “Not my place to say, but take it from me, she’s really not as bad as she makes you think she is. Don’t take her at face value.”

“Is that why the old goat’s got it out for her? Because she’s emo?” Dante asked, with a sarcastic smirk.

Roy chuckled knowingly. “I think it’s more like the other way around. Tess has a few flaws and a bit of an attitude, so everyone expects that she is a… well, a shrew. She ends up acting the part because everyone’s convinced her that she is one. Hell, even I do sometimes, when I lose my temper.”

Dante's quizzical brow turned into a sarcastic one “Could've fooled me!” he said. “You guys got a microwave, by the way?”

“Sure,” Roy replied, making the chair creak a little as he stood up. He picked his glass up and beckoned him to the kitchen. “This way.”

Dante followed him, licking his lips slightly, looking forward to his meal, still slightly wondering why Roy meant when he said that she acted different. So far Dante had a feeling that they’d just never get along. The only impression she’d left him with was that she was way too pissy and confrontational.

The communal kitchen and lounge that Roy led him to was kind of crammed, but clean and neatly set, with a full kitchen and a truly enormous fridge along one wall, while the other end of the room had a TV on a stand, a large sofa and two other armchairs and a large coffee table, along with a dining table near the kitchen counter. Dante thought it was appealing—and practical. The microwave he had asked about sat on one of the counters.

“Help yourself, just don't make a mess,” Roy told him, sitting at a chair and pouring himself some more liquor from a bottle on the table. He pointedly looked at the ready-to-nuke meal Dante was holding. “I hope you don't plan to live on that junk. You'll be dead before you're twenty,” he said with a slight wrinkle of the nose.

Dante struggled a little to open the box, retorting. “Good. It’s not like I plan on living past eighteen, anyway,” he said, smirking.

He wrestled with the box until finally he ripped it open in three big pieces. He muttered “I win!” and threw the tray of food into the microwave, setting it to ‘high’ for three minutes.

His answer and reactions caused Roy to chuckle more. “Hmph. No wonder,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “You know, I hate to admit this, but maybe it’s good you turned up. I’ve been sick and tired of this place being empty and that little shrew needs someone to bully her out of her safe zone. Maybe she'll stop being so bitchy, eventually,” he said, half to himself, half to Dante.

Dante just gave a sarcastic chuckle, but didn’t glance over. He was waiting for his dinner to get done. The smell it gave off already was good, for him. Roy on the other hand, wrinkled up his nose and grimaced, letting a sound of mild disgust.

Dante didn't even have to look. He simply replied “Whatever, old man, but at this point, food is food!”

Roy scoffed and sipped some more liquor.

Soon, none other than Tess came from the lobby. Immediately, she waved her hand in front of her face. “Ow, what’s that smell? Roy, what’s—“ she trailed off when she noticed Dante. “Oh. Why am I not surprised?” she said with quite a deadpan look.

“You too, Twig!” Dante replied with a smirk. “Maybe you should take after me and my eating habits,” he said, walking over and boldly poking her skinny arm gently. “Put some meat on them bones!”

She just stared back, eyes wide and slightly taken aback at his comment. Then the microwave let out a cheery ding! and Dante swiftly turned back around and removed his tray, laying it out to cool on the counter.

Tess frowned pointedly at the sight of the tray and looked like she wanted to say something about it, but didn’t. Roy snorted at her look, almost choking on his liquor. Tess stared from Roy to Dante, as if both were offending her.

“No thanks,” she told Dante, finally having regained her composure. “I think I’ll stick with food that doesn’t make my arteries panic,” she muttered. She opened the fridge and taking out a green apple that she began to eat slowly, leaned against the fridge’s door. “She said she's fine with letting him stay, by the way. For now, anyway,” she said to Roy.

“Oh? Good. God knows we needed some traffic around this dead place. I wouldn’t stand you and Magda alone for long. I’m still surprised though,” Roy replied, looking relieved.

Oh that was a very good veiled threat, right there. Dante frowned but did his best to ignore them. He was more concerned about his meal and prodded it impatiently. Still too hot. So he turned back to Tess, pointedly. “Listen, Twig. You and I…we gotta do something about this pretend hate. You gotta lighten up a little!

Tess just glared at him. “Do you really think I give a crap about you? I do not need to lighten up, I'm just fine!” she said sharply, biting into her apple a little harder this time. “And will you _stop_ calling me things like that! I am not a twig and I am not…bones either” she added, indignant.

Roy didn’t interfere; he just bit back a huge grin. He watched the top of them with an amused and somewhat relieved expression, like he was glad to see the bratty red-head get her just desserts and get pushed out of her usual cross sarcasm. She wasn’t used to being teased by anyone like this, and getting a taste of her own medicine was doing her good. Finally someone was poking her about something else other than her perpetually withdrawn behavior.

Dante just shrugged and checked his tray again. It was better now, so he devoured his quickie meal, almost literally in seconds. He retorted with a full mouth: “What should I call you, then? Plank? Stick? Red Skeleton?” he chuckled to himself, trying not to let food fly from his mouth.

Tess was caught unprepared and frankly, she was unused to that kind of remark. She could only stare back wide-eyed in bewilderment—and frankly, some disgust at his manners. She bit into her apple and chewed angrily before she swallowed. Roy just chuckled harder, while holding the glass to his mouth. They really were quite funny. Especially Tess. Oh, he was enjoying the sheer confusion of the girl. It suited her right, in fact. For once, someone her age seemed to be able to put her in her place.

Tess shook her head, eyes closed, trying to maintain her dignity. “You are such a pig. My name will do perfectly fine, thank you,” she said, so coldly that Dante felt the heat of his meal diminish. “And I’m not _that_ thin…”

But she tugged at her shirt’s neck briefly and then at the rim, straightening it out in front of her. Sadly it just pointed out the obvious: She _was_ thin and without many curves.

Dante swallowed –almost inhaled, rather—the rest of his food and let out a loud belch, rubbing his stomach, pleased. He gave a sigh and answered, “Fine, then. I'll just call you names _behind_ your back," he gave a sly glance to see her reaction.

He was just getting started, but teasing her was already pretty funny. Roy seemed to find it amusing too. But Tess wrinkled her nose in disgust and glaring at him with such anger and indignation, you could swear her eyes are spitting fires. Ironically, this had nothing to do with her usual icy stare; this one had more life in it and in fact, looked better on her than her usual, deathly frigid look. She definitely wasn’t used to being teased or picked upon.

“Go choke on something, please,” she said angrily, turning her back and stomping out of the kitchen.

To add insult to injury he snorted like a warthog after her and laughed, throwing away his trash.

“Hahaha… Oh, I’m so sorry, Dante. Don’t take her seriously,” Roy cackled.

Dante just grinned. “Don’t worry, old man, I’ve heard worse. Takes more than a snappy little girl to make me upset!"

“Oh wait till she gets started!” Roy snorted as Dante made his way past him.

Dante headed to the basement, grabbed a bunch of sheet sets and headed back upstairs. The teenager’s boots thudded heavily on the boards on his way up the stairs; he crossed the hallway leisurely, opened the door of his room with a creak and shut it gently in his wake. He haphazardly flung some sheets on the bed, then just collapsed on it , kicked his boots off and remained staring at the ceiling, looking back at his day and waiting for sleep to claim him.


	2. The Devil In 2F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Jesus I'd almost forgotten how long the chapters were. I failed so hard at brevity then 8D

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the room that Dante had been occupying for only a few days now. He lay in bed, still in a lazy slumber until finally the sunlight's contact with his face persuaded him to wake up. He blinked groggily a few times, stretching with a wide yawn and then rolled over to grab the alarm clock from the night table and check it, bringing it closer to his face.

10:24 am. How odd, he hadn't slept the day away for once!

He put the clock down and got up, stretching and yawning. Over the past few days, the room had become a little closer to his personal taste and a lot cozier. Clothes were strewn on the sofa and the floor around his bed and he picked through them for a pair of faded charcoal cotton pants. As he pulled them on, his gaze fell on his two guns: A fine pair of heavy .45 mm firearms lying haphazardly on the small table. The Rebellion sword was propped up against the wall since the day he moved in. There had been no need to use either of them and he wondered whether he should go looking for trouble or not.

After he'd pulled the trousers on, not bothering with shoes or a shirt, he walked out into the chilly hall, stretching and yawning viciously, headed for the bathroom. While at first it felt tedious to have to walk so far to the bathroom, he soon realized it helped him wake up. So far he hadn't crossed paths with the snappy red-head in the hallways, or seen much of her around. She usually avoided him, even in the communal kitchen. A couple of times he'd found her there making a meal for herself, but she always took it to her room and hardly ever spoke a word to him.

Sometimes she would give him weird looks and then turn away and walk right off. One night he found her watching some movie on the TV in the lounge, with a gray cat lying on her lap and she perfectly ignored him. Although Roy had mentioned in passing that she habitually went on long walks around the city by herself, he never ran into her when he went out and about. The feminine, if subtle, citrus-like scent he picked up from the shower stall sometimes, was the surest way to tell when she had gotten up before him.

He gave another wide yawn as he reached the bathroom door.

"Be careful, a bee might fly in. But I guess your breath would kill it anyway."

 _Speak of the devil,_ he thought.

Dante looked to his left. Tess had obviously woken up earlier than him, because she was fully awake and dressed, closing and locking her door. He noted she looked ready to head downstairs, her hair tied in a loose ponytail down her back as usual. Dante just scratched the back of his neck, yawning. So she wanted a morning rant match and in fact, _she_ started it. Well, she wasn't the only one to wake up cranky! He tried to tell himself it was childish but something in him derived an absurd glee at making her mad. He got in her way as she headed for the stairs and got right in her face, making sure to breathe heavy as he spoke.

"I bet _you're_ no princess when you first wake up."

Tess shut her eyes and backed away from him, annoyed at that action, then simply walked around and past him. “Yeah well, at least I brush my teeth,” she said, giving him a sly look over her shoulder as she went to the staircase. "But I guess compared to you I look fine. Even _you_ look happy to see me, unless you sleep with pencils in your pocket," she said, chuckling pointedly.

Dante, still a little out of it from having just woken up, didn't catch that right away and looked down on himself.

_Oops._

Perhaps he ought to put waking up proper over poking fun of her. He winced faintly at the sight of a light bulging on his pants; it was just an awkward, chance crease at exactly the wrong spot, but it looked like an overlooked morning wood. He shrugged it off, straightening his pants a little while calling over his shoulder as he went in the bathroom: "I was thinking of you with some more meat on your bones! That's the only way thinking of you that I could get it up!"

 _That should teach her,_ he thought, expecting her to be too shocked to reply.

However, Tess _did_ reply, although when she did, her face was hot from embarrassment. She stopped on the stairs and turned to call to him: "Well don't count on me to help you get it down--unless I kick you! That should do it!"

Dante frowned and muttered to assure himself the last word of the low-blow match: "I wouldn't let you near me like that even if your hands were made of velvet!"

He closed the bathroom door behind him. As he expected, the shower reeked of citrus again.

Meanwhile, Tess trotted down the rest of the stairs and went into the kitchen. A gray cat with green eyes was sitting on a rug in the lounge area and stared at her with wide eyes as she came inside. It looked almost surprised. It then _spoke_ , with a voice that sounded unmistakably like Roy’s, right down to the faintly British lisp.

"What...are you two talking about?" the cat quipped.

Tess, completely unimpressed at the talking cat, opened the fridge, took out a jug of orange juice and poured herself some in a glass. "Nevermind," she said irritably.

She could hear the shower turned on for some time, upstairs while she drank some juice and then fetched a frying pan and materials for pancakes. Then the sink turned on for a while. When it shut off, she heard the creaky door open and imagined Dante pouring out with the steam. The thought made her frown while mixing the batter. The gray cat hopped onto the counter beside her, purring while she started pouring the batter in the hot pan. Tess stroked the cat's fur absently, drinking her orange juice slowly while watching the pancakes and listening to the weather forecast on television. Unusually cold weather was the main feature.

"You look angry. Nice change from your depression," the cat said, flicking its tail softly. "I was sick of you being such a stone-cold little shrew. It almost makes me glad that brat came along. Maybe you did need someone like him to bully you."

Tess frowned. "Just where do you see the good in that? He just irritates me."

The cat let a chuckle. "Good, get a taste of your own medicine."

"Oh come on. I am _not_ that bothersome."

"Oh you bother my nerves enough" the cat said sarcastically.

Tess sulked at the cat. She didn't feel like arguing with him. She dropped the subject and just drunk some more juice, glancing at the windy weather outside and then poured another bit of batter into the pan.

Meanwhile, Dante dried out his hair with a towel and smiled, feeling refreshed as he walked to his room to change, shutting his door behind him gently. A shower sure did good to make him forget about the bitchy little Twig! He wrestled around with his bag until it surrendered a pair of black jeans. He slipped them on with a dark gray shirt he picked off the back of chair nearby. He looked for his shoes and grunted irritably when he had to drop on his hands and knees and reach under the bed for one of his boots. As he went down the stairs a few minutes later, his stomach made an obnoxious, demanding growl.

He gasped "Breakfast!" and rushed back upstairs. After grabbing a microwaveable breakfast wrap from his room, he darted downstairs to the kitchen.

He smirked, seeing Tess standing by the stove in the lounge room, cooking something and drinking juice. He smelled pancakes. While he was in the corridor, for a moment he had the impression that he heard her talking to someone, but when he actually entered the room she fell silent. He glanced over at her, which she returned, unconcerned. That's when he noticed the gray cat standing by her feet. He'd seen it around sometimes and assumed it was a pet. It always stared at him with large eyes quite intently and did so now as well.

For some strange reason, Dante thought of Roy suddenly. _Where'd the old man go?_

His stomach gave another clench, demanding to be fed and he shrugged the thought off. He opened the box and tossed the wrap in the microwave, setting it to start. The cat let a throaty meow and stretched a little. It padded closer to Dante, sniffing and swishing its tail. Dante glanced at the cat, then back at the microwave. The cat snorted audibly and shook its head vigorously, as if the smell annoyed it terribly, which made Tess scoff and then it scuttled out of the kitchen.

She looked over her shoulder, staring at him while lifting the pan off the cooker. "Ew, are you going to eat another nuked meal for breakfast? Is that all you eat?" she said.

Dante leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "As a matter of fact, I do," he stated, absolutely unconcerned. "I don't know how to cook, don't care, so lay off my eating habits and start worrying about developing some of your own!"

Tess rolled her eyes. "Oh wonder of wonders, something you suck at," she said, draining the last of her orange juice. "I mean, for God's sake, even _I_ can cook a simple meal and I'm no household genius."

Dante just shrugged as the microwave dinged. "I just dunno how, alright? And by the looks of things, you don't know how to eat!"

He opened the microwave and retrieved his wrap. It should have burned his fingers, but he held it firmly and took a bite. The radiated meal _steamed_ and yet he took another bite, like it was lukewarm. He tossed the package over his shoulder and into the trashcan and walking over, dropped onto the sofa in the other side of the lounge, opposite her.

Tess stared at that exhibition of resistance to being burned, raising her eyebrows for a moment then shook her head and returned her attention to her own breakfast. Dante just shrugged and kept eating his meal with a smirk. So she didn't live on air after all! She poured a last dose of batter in the pan over the kitchen fire while he watched without much interest.

He was however, noticing something like skepticism in her countenance. It was as if she wasn't certain whether she trusted keeping her back to him. He watched the red torrent of hair down her back whip to each side as she jerked her head to flick some loose hairs off her face. But he was watching for something else that he had been noticing the past few days.

"So how long's it been since someone actually lived here besides you and Roy?" he asked absently.

"And my grandmother," Tess sighed. "I think it's been two years."

Dante watched her flip a pancake up from the pan; it turned in mid air and landed neatly back in the pan. She did it in a surprisingly professional manner and after a while prodded it gently with a fork to make sure it was done then dumped it onto a pile of the rest of the pancakes on a plate. "Last tenant was a dipshit who didn't pay the rent on time and kept pissing off Roy. Brought all kinds of crap into the house, too."

That would explain Roy's initial greeting on his first day there. Dante ate the rest of his piping hot breakfast, then got off the counter, went up to her as she carried her plate to the table and replied in that same smug attitude. "I bet he ran off in terror of you!" he said cheerily, picked up a jug of maple syrup before she could and poured a generous amount over her pancakes, much to her surprise. "Now eat! I'm outta here!"

Tess rolled her eyes and _stabbed_ some of the pancakes with a fork. "Bloody idiot," she mumbled. "I don't scare people." _What a lie,_ a tiny voice in the back of her mind sighed. She scowled at the unwanted thought and angrily bit into a syrupy pancake.

Dante walked out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to get changed. After talking with her, he felt like going out. He had noticed some odd activity around the convenience store the last couple of days and he wanted to go back to it and have a closer look today when he expected it would be closed and no one would really notice him. He finally found his brown bomber jacket, fleece-lined and better suited for the cold mornings, among the mass of crumbled and tattered clothes in his bag or around the floor. He thought he probably had to finally make some good use of that laundry room Roy had mentioned and sort his clothes out later. He pulled a thicker, black shirt on, his trusty jeans and then bolted down the steps and out the door.

Tess, having gone through less than half of the food, looked up as he left; she hesitated and then without even being sure why, she got up from the table and called after him. "Hey! Where are you going?!"

Roy was just coming into the kitchen when Tess rushed out and trampled over his toes while grabbing her jacket from the hall. "Ouch! Yes, good morning to you too!" he said sarcastically.

"You can eat the rest of the pancakes. Bye!" Tess told him and whipping on her jacket, ran out the door.

Roy just stared at the door swinging shut with a deadpan look. "Huh. Sixteen years and I _still_ don't get that little--" he mumbled, going in the kitchen and eying the pancakes gleefully.

She caught up to him as Dante calmly walked down the street toward the little convenience store that Tess had first taken him to with his hands in his pockets, trying not to pay attention to the stares of a few people walking along the streets. A woman walking her Labrador passed him by and the dog lingered and tugging its leash, sniffed in his direction for a moment before barking nervously at him and shoving its tail between its legs. Tess tilt her head a bit as he looked at it sideways and pressed on; the dog's behavior struck her as unusual.

Dante looked over as he heard the dog bark again, this time at the red-head coming past it and after him.

"You know, you can't just barge in and out like that. What are you up to?" Tess asked him boldly. _Since when am I so nosy? But I just have this nagging feeling..._

Dante stopped with a sigh, looked at her over his shoulder and then turned. "What do you mean I can't just barge in and out? Building's a free ground. What, think you're my mom?" he said, poking her with a finger. "Gotta learn to mind your own business, Twig." He then whipped around and headed towards the store again, a bit more quickly this time. There was that strange feeling again that got him wondering about the girl.

She followed, jogging to keep up. "I don't mean it like that! But we don't know you. You're living in my home and I don't really trust you yet. How do I know you aren't... aren't going to drag something stupid back to my home like the last guy did?!"

 _Really, Tess?_ she thought, conscious of how she sounded. _That's your excuse?_ She blushed a little again, but hoped it would look like it was the cold to blame for it. _Why am I following him? I_ hate _being curious! But I want to see what he's up to._

Dante chose to ignore her, pressing on and missed the entrance to the store. Actually, he walked right past the entire store and abruptly turned and headed down an alley made by the side of the store and the building to its right. He looked around the alley with sharp eyes as he walked.

Tess watched him, puzzled and then turned to look at the entrance of the store as she passed by while following him, calling after him "Hey, where are you going, the store is back--"

She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze fixed on the door to the shop. She froze in place trying to finish the rest of her sentence but her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She turned her gaze from the door towards the alley and her expression went blank save for her brows that made a soft frown. Her vision tunneled sharply making the world around her swim and disorienting her. She winced, bringing her hand to her head, squinting and blinking. A muffled sound like white noise erupted in her ears, on and off and on again the sound only adding to her bewilderment. She looked back at the door quite fixedly, fidgeting, for a moment. She made to speak again but all that came was a small gasp. She kept staring at the door, not certain about what she saw, then her eyes widened and for several seconds she was petrified from _terror_... then just as suddenly as this strange feeling crept into her it was over as her eyes rolled inside their sockets, shut and she fell on the ground on her side with a soft thump, in a dead faint.

Dante was bent over something in the alley when he heard the thump. He got up and walked back around the corner quickly. Poking a look around the corner and seeing the red-head lying on the pavement and not moving, he let a low, bit-off cuss and hurried to her side. If his suspicions were confirmed about this place, she had been very foolish to follow him there.

"Shit. Hey, hey girl--Tess? _Tess_!" he said, knelt beside her and shaking her gently.

When she didn't respond, he pressed his fingers just beneath her jaw. He breathed out. Okay, she had a pulse, so she wasn't dead. She sure as hell looked the part. Her breathing was weak and she felt so cold it was like someone had put her in the fridge! He looked at her, confused and not quite sure what to do.

"Aw, for fuck's sake," he sighed, then picked her up into his arms. She was completely limp and as expected, didn't weigh very much.

"Hmph, _'Im fine'_ you say--my ass" he muttered and carried her back to the apartment complex.

At least nobody saw him carry her back. Last thing he needed was someone seeing him carry the Twig bride-style. He winced at that thought. He climbed the steps and manipulated the door with his elbow and foot to swing it open, walked inside and called for Roy.

"Hey Roy!!!"

To his surprise, the man came almost crashing down the stairs cussing, with a war-cry of sorts, brandishing a...broomstick in a most hostile manner, as if it were a spear. He must have been sweeping upstairs and Dante shouting had startled him.

"Who the hell--!!" he stopped dead and silent when he saw Dante stand there, holding Tess limp in his arms. He let a weird sound like a gasp, dropped the broomstick and rushed up to him.

"Tess! What happened!?" he demanded, glaring Dante and for a moment the teenager nearly swore that he saw the foreman's eyes glow an eerie amber color but the next moment his attention was entirely on the heavy fist that Roy was shaking as he took a step towards him. "If you've done something stupid and gotten her involved, so help me I'll--"

"Whoa, slow down old man!" Dante blurted, stumbling back a little as his feel stepped onto the creaky board on the floor, while he stepped away from Roy, who was advancing on him in an aggressive manner, clearly upset. Still, his hold on Tess, limp in his arms, didn't slack. "This ain't my fault, okay?! She just dropped over on me! Quit your barking and let's get her on a couch or something!"

Roy grunted in a worried manner and pulling the door open abruptly, he ushered Dante through the very door that he had told the teenager to stay out of, the one that led to the owner's apartment.

He stumbled in, Roy leading him straight into a larger room. Roy directed him towards a sofa and the two of them placed Tess there, Roy stuffing a pillow behind her head to prop it up. Dante would have liked to check the room out, but he found himself too concerned about what was wrong with the still unconscious girl lying on the sofa. He found it was a bit unnerving that she'd be out for so long and hesitated to tell Roy about his suspicions. Roy checked her pulse and then her forehead for fever, looking very anxious.

"Thank goodness, just passed out--but so cold! What happened!?" he asked Dante, staring at him a bit angrily.

Dante shrugged at his accusing countenance, looking back at him wide-eyed and spontaneously started "I didn't--"

He took a deep breath to stop himself and then explained “I was on my way to the store and I guess she was tailing me. I heard someone collapse, so I turned around, and there she was all over the pavement. I rushed over, checked her vitals, couldn't get her to wake up, didn’t know what the heck to do with her, so I picked her up, and here we are.”

Roy nodded, listening. “Hmph. Did you see what she did before she collapsed? Did anyone touch her, did she see something; did _you_ feel anything that she might've felt? Anything you remember,” he said quickly, yanking Dante closer by the sleeve, when he seemed likely to shuffle out of there.

Dante winced, pulling his arm free from the old man, frustrated at his interrogation. “What is this, 20 questions? I told you what happened. That's all there's to it!”

Roy shook his hand in a dismissive manner. “Where'd this happen, again?”

“I told you, right in front of the convenience store. I was on my way to it when I heard her collapse. I turned around and there she was passed out all over the pavement. I checked her pulse then brought her here. That's it!” He hated to admit it, but he started to worry about her. This wasn't some faint easy to recover from, otherwise she'd have come-to by now. “So what’s with her?”

Roy shook his head. He looked absent-minded. "Nothing to worry about. It--it happens to her sometimes. She's just a bit…sensitive,” he said, trying to sound honest, but failing.

Suddenly Tess spoke up herself, in a very small, tired voice. “Rubbish. I’m not sensitive,” she muttered, starting to recover. She fidgeted.

Roy whipped around to the sound of her voice. “Ah good, so you’re coming to at last. What happened?” he asked her, stroking her hair tenderly.

Dante also stared at her. “Uh, that didn't seem so normal to me. You don’t _just_ collapse like that. It took you a while to wake up!” Dante said to Tess. He was relieved that she was alright--but didn't want to show it. It took a lot of responsibility off his shoulders.

Tess gently pushed off Roy's hand, sitting up with a little groan, and glanced at Dante before answering. “The same old thing.”

“Oh come on, you aren't being serious!” Roy protested.

She shook her head. “I am, I saw—“

“You saw nothing, child. You’re having a feverish raving.”

Now Dante whipped around, surprised by that unknown voice, that sounded pretty creepy, though elderly, respectful and sagely…and still creepy.

An old woman stood by the door leading further into the house. She was thin, with a darker complexion than Tess, tall and very rigid. Dante was reminded of evil queens from fairy-tales, with those piercing brown eyes, a fair amount of wrinkles and the graying hair, tied in a long pigtail down her back. She came closer, her deep purple, satin dress swishing against the carpet. The turtle-neck dress, completely covering her legs to the feet, with long sleeves and the black silk shawl around her shoulders made her look even more regal. When she came closer, the scent of a cigarette's smoke came to his nostrils, from the end of a long, straight pipe.

Dante gulped; she indeed had the air of a grand lady and he became suspicious of her. Of what, or why exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was certain that there was more to this old woman than she showed, because of her commanding manner to the way she walked, like a sage. It could have been something as innocent as old-age quirkiness...or something different.

 _Dude, if someone looks like a witch in this house, that’s her,_ Dante thought, raising an eyebrow.

The old lady walked up to Tess and felt her forehead, despite the girl’s protest. Dante stared at her, watching her carefully. She was seriously an odd-looking woman and looked like she had walked out of an old painting.

 _This place gets funnier the more I stay around. Wonder what other surprises are on the way. Is this granny that girl in the photo out in the lobby? Can’t be--_ he thought to himself.

Tess glared at the old woman in a rather hostile manner. “You're not going to make me look like a lunatic again?” she said sarcastically.

The woman replied in a perfectly calm, unaffected manner, picking her pipe from her mouth softly. “You are the one who brings this on yourself with your insistence.”

Roy attempted to interject. He sounded more respectful than Dante had ever seen him “Err…I don't really think it’s wise to—“

She interrupted him decisively. “Quiet Roy,” she said, glancing from Dante to Tess and then back at Dante. “Thank you for bringing my granddaughter home. I'm sorry if she caused you trouble.”

Dante nodded, bored. He wanted to shout. Of course she caused him trouble, it was all she did! “No problem. Uh, anyway. I’m goin’ now. Hey Roy, catch you later. Don’t lock me outside!” he said, saluting the foreman casually.

With that, Dante bolted out the door into the lobby, then and back outside toward the store. It just occurred to him then. _So that’s her_ grandmother _?! What did Roy say her name was? Magda? Something like that. Sheesh, freaky old lady. No wonder the Twig’s so uptight. I’d be crazy with such a granny too._

He never noticed Tess’ glare on his back as he left. It was as if she looked upset he went. She was left in deeper trouble. Magda Templar stared at the door shutting after Dante then turned back to Tess, as if blaming her for something.

“I don't like him staying here,” she told the girl sharply, irritated.

“Well like it or not he is! You can't kick him out on your whim,” Tess replied, frustrated. She really hated her grandmother’s attitude sometimes. Well, most of the time.

Magda smirked at her granddaughter’s stubborn reply. “And what does it mean to you?”

The girl frowned in reply. “Nothing. I just don't like you bullying everyone like you do me. And while I'm at it, I _did_ see something, I—“

“Enough,” Magda said sharply, her tone louder now. “I will not tolerate this folly from you any longer. You cannot keep on these claims that you _see things_. The only time that would be possible, is if you were mentally disturbed. Are you?” she then asked, with a pointed, rather mean smirk.

Tess hissed at her angrily. “No! I'm-- I'm not!”

The old woman stood over her, looking down with a sneering look. “Then what did you see?”

Tess could not reply immediately. She fumbled with her fingers, looking down, confused. “I…I--I don't know.”

Magda shook her head in dismiss. “Hmph, do you ever?” She dismissed the entire thing and took her leave, slowly, but not before turning to Tess and glowering at her. “Go to your room. You're unwell.”

Tess opened her mouth to protest then shut it without making a sound, frowned badly, got up from the couch, stomped past Roy, who looked upset at the whole scene, and went upstairs to her room. She slammed the door behind her obnoxiously loud.

Meanwhile, Dante ran past the few people on the streets as fast as he could, making a sharp turn down the same alley on the far side of the store as he had before. He came to a fence that blocked the only way to the back of the building. He easily got over it by jumping effortlessly, hitting his foot against the wall on the side, and jumping over the fence. He landed smoothly and moved up to the back of the store. It was quiet and just as he had thought.

A puddle of blood remained behind the store, just in front of the back door. He slowed to a halt, knelt by the blood, touched it with his fingertips and pulled it closer to his face. As he pulled the sample, a string of it stranded from his fingers back to the puddle and broke. Too thick for human blood. He sniffed it, wrinkled his nose, and stood, wiping the blood on his jacket’s sleeve. It definitely wasn’t human blood. He looked around. He saw further evidence of his quarry spattered on the wall behind the store. _They_ had been here, but they hadn't attacked.

He shook his head, there was nothing to be done here and the only thing he could do was to calmly walk back to the apartment complex, thinking. He opened the door slowly and walked in, noticing Roy just walking over to his usual place by the service counter with a cup of coffee, from the kitchen. He walked up to the old man as he sat down and, uncertain why he even cared, asked “Hey, she okay?”

Roy let a sigh, looking rather irritated. “She'll be alright. But not for long, if Magda keeps provoking her like that,” he said, taking his seat behind the counter again.

Dante looked confused for a moment then whispered to the man “What's wrong with her?” If that freaky old lady was still in the other room, Dante wasn’t in the mood to let her know he was around.

Roy took a sip of his coffee and looked up at him, a little surprised he asked. “There's nothing…wrong with the girl. Just--” he said, sounding like he did want to talk about it, but also didn’t feel it was right to do so. “You want to know that bad, you should ask her yourself _,”_ he said with a sulk. “But I can tell you this: Magda's only being a hag to her because of Tess' old man.”

Dante became more confused, and yet interested too. He leaned over “What about her old man?”

Roy frowned. Bringing this up was obviously unpleasant. “Magda didn't like him, that's what!” he said, irritated. “Never liked her daughter marrying him,” he said then cringed. “Gah! I'm not supposed to be talking about this,” he grumbled and got up again and picked up his toolbox along with his coffee. “I've got work to do. Blasted heater's broken again,” he muttered and trudged off to the basement.

Dante frowned in slight disappointment. He knew Roy wasn’t telling him something. He likely didn’t want to betray the trust of the people he worked for. But then again…this weird trio that Dante shared the building with was really strange and he suspected they were hiding something, particularly Tess and that creepy grandmother of hers. It was just a hunch, a feeling in his gut, but so far experience had taught him to trust those hunches.

He then remembered the other thing occupying his mind and shrugged the issue about Tess off for now and bound up the stairs to his room, opened the door, and gently shut it behind him. He rustled through his bag, not quite knowing what he was looking for, but immediately recognized it when he found it: A book with a black cover. It was a black hardcover book, the size of a notebook, and the creases in its surface suggested it was old. He opened the book and searched for an explanation as to what he saw. It took some time before he found what he was looking for. The door he once gently shut creaked a little and opened itself just a hair.

Unaware of being watched, he mumbled to himself, confirming his suspicions. “Bloodgoyles.”

He never noticed Tess being at the door that was left a little open till she talked. “I’m surprised you even know what they’re called. Most people don’t even see them for what they really are.”

He looked over his shoulder; she looked stiff and quiet as ever, holding her arms firmly folded over her chest. Dante slammed the book shut and turned towards her as he stood. He walked over to the door silently with an angry smile on his face.

As he came to the door, he held the knob, leaned forward into her face and said “Bye.”

With that, he shut the door in her face, but not loudly and it clicked as he locked it. He didn’t even stop to wonder how she knew about Bloodgoyles until a lot later. All he cared about at the time was that she had been snooping in on him and that bothered him.

Tess stared at the shut door, surprised at the rudeness, then frowned badly. She turned and headed for her room again, mumbling a few strange words and then “I hope you fall on your face.”

Dante emerged from his room before sundown with another box of microwavable food. He popped the box off as he thudded back down the stairs, and lightly again on the hardwood floor as he entered the kitchen area, only to find Roy cooking something up over the stove.

“Evenin' Roy!” he called.

Roy replied with a little grunt. He was cooking spaghetti of some kind in a pot and Dante nearly envied it. “What did you do to her this time?”

Dante pulled a wry face and stopped dead in his tracks. “What? Am I gonna get blamed every time something happens to the Twig?”

Roy chuckled. “Of course not. But if she _death-glares_ when I mention your name, probably means you did something. And I sure as hell don't like suffering her bad moods this often. All I'm saying is watch your butt. She doesn't look much, but she can really mess you up.”

He stared at the young man up and down, and cracked a sly grin, seeing something Dante didn’t. “In fact I'd say she has already,” he chuckled.

Dante stared blankly at the old man for a good ten seconds, half waiting for him to explain, half just not knowing what to do or say to that. He just shrugged and moved toward the microwave “Right,” he said. _She’s a twig. What the hell could she do to me?_

Roy shook his head. “You know, I got the amounts wrong and I cooked for more. Er…wanna swap that microwave bomb for a load of this? I hope you like pasta,” he said, completely straight-faced and tasted a bit of the red sauce he was making from the edge of the spoon. “Hmm, just perfect,” he decided.

Dante looked at him sideways and without missing a beat, asked “Huh? You sure, old timer?”

He had just shut the microwave and was ready to turn the knob, keeping his fingers on the wheel in case Roy suddenly changed his mind. Dante thought that it wasn't beyond him. But on the other hand, that food the old man was cooking _did_ smell awfully good.

Roy just chuckled. “I'm sure. Look, boy, just 'cause the world out there is a crazy place, doesn't mean some people can't do something outta good intentions,” he said, stirring the sauce slowly. “Besides, I always think it’s good business and good manners to welcome new tenants with a dinner on the house.”

Dante grinned and instantly opened the microwave and stuffed his nuke-food back in the box. “Thanks Roy. I know you cooked more on pur—“

As he turned, he felt a strange zing around his legs and then his boot locked behind his opposing ankle, making him lose balance, fall and nearly fell smack on his face. His microwave dinner slid along the floor and stopped right before the door. The would-be demon hunter moaned as he came back to his feet and rubbed his chin furiously.

“What the--!?” he quipped, wondering how the hell he did that.

Roy bit back a laugh but gave a lopsided grin. “Careful! Good Heavens, that was loud. You alright? Nothing broken? Huh, must’ve tripped on some loose board. They always creak and pop loose,” he commented. However, he tone belied that knew something else.

Tess suddenly came in, as Dante got up and she even picked up the food packet from the floor for him and tossed it onto the table. She looked rather satisfied with what she saw. “What was that, Godzilla walking through the kitchen?” she laughed.

Dante gave her a sideways, evil look and silently blamed his trip on her, somehow just knowing she had something to do with it from that smug grin on her face.

“Couldn't have been _you_ , Twig!” he retaliated. “You're much too small to make such a noise. In fact, I'd bet that when _you_ stumble, you just glide through the air!” he said impatiently, making a motion with his hand suggesting she could glide.

Tess wasn’t fazed, she just grinned, amused. “Maybe. Or maybe I'm so thin so I can ride my broomstick easier,” she laughed, walking over to Roy and looked at the pots on the stove. “Mmm, you made one of my favorites. You have some favor to ask me or something?” she asked.

Roy gave her a sideways glance, with a mock-indignant look. “Are you suggesting I'm trying to bribe you?” he said, amused.

Tess grinned at him more sweetly than Dante expected her to be able to be. “Back when I was 10 or something, maybe. Not now though,” she said, then jabbed her thumb in Dante's direction. “He gonna join us or is he just here to sweep the floor with his butt?”

Roy gave a nod. “He is.”

Her eyebrows bowed up, but she looked content. “Oh, good. Perhaps now you won’t nag me to eat more.”

“He's gonna join _you_. I have something to do once I'm done cooking. I'm eating late,” Roy corrected her.

Tess stared at him. “You're gonna leave me alone with him?” she said in a mock dramatic way. “A total stranger at my age?”

Roy didn’t seem to appreciate her joke and glared. “Well, I trust you dislike each other enough to prevent any hanky panky” he muttered sourly.

Tess stared at him wide-eyed, in a look of genuine shock and blushed a deep shade of red. And Dante's face, though pale, turned a little red at the suggestion of any kind of liaison with the girl, but he was able to suppress it quickly.

He quickly turned his embarrassment into sarcasm “I dunno, Roy, I think this one's got the hots for me!”

He mockingly moved closer and stretched his arm to place it around her. He tried everything he could to suppress a laugh, but ended up cracking up before his arm draped over her shoulder. This was too good a chance to pick on her to let it go.

Tess folded her arms over her chest, staring at him sourly with her face still rosy. “Oh yeah? Wow, didn't realize I was _so_ taken by you, Romeo,” she scowled, swatting his arm off her shoulder and took a big step to the side. “If I remember, you're the one who got a morning wood and admitted thinking about me,” she said pointedly.

 _Ow, touché,_ Dante thought. “I call the bullshit card, Twig.”

Roy coughed, nervous. “Right! Plates are in the cupboard so help yourselves,” he declared and made his way out of the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering. “I'm too old for this stuff. Kids these days.”

Both Tess and Dante chuckled at his reaction but Dante’s turned sour soon, as he frowned in anger and folded his arms at her comment. Like he’d ever get morning wood thinking of her! Still, he felt pleased enough from the free meal that he moved to the cupboard that Roy pointed out and pulled out two plates. “Just me and you or is the old lady coming?”

He brought the two plates to Tess who was already over the pots and picked up the spaghetti tongs to serve. She shook her head. “Nah. Grams never eats here. She hardly ever goes out of her house. She's not exactly social, as you saw for yourself. And...don’t take what she says personally. She treats almost everyone like that-- those that don't meet her standards, that is. Why do you think I live two floors away from her? She never stops bitching about it,” she said bitterly.

He handed her one plate, taken aback from her statement. For a moment he forgot his frustration and his curiosity took over. “Huh? But she's family, what’s her problem with you? Is she mad 'cause you're so skinny?”

Tess chuckled a bit. “Nah. Other reasons,” she said. She handing him a plate, generously loaded with spaghetti and sauce. “She wants to control me, but I like doing things my way. She thinks I'm crazy too.” She paused “But it’s mostly 'cuz of my dad.”

Dante gratefully took his plate and set it near his seat, almost as claim for said seat. He then found forks and set them on the table. He sat where he placed his plate and asked her without looking her in the eyes “What about him?”

It was only a little later that he realized they were talking quite normally to each other, without sarcasm or teasing. He actually hadn’t had such a conversation with someone in a long time.

“She just didn't approve of him,” she replied cryptically.

But Dante could tell she was hiding something. her guard was down and now was the perfect time for him to drop his question. “So it has nothing to do with that fact that _you're a witch_?” he asked innocently.

Tess’ eyes widened and she fumbled with the plate she was holding. The sound of it smashing on the floor stirred the pause that came before her answer. She stared ahead of her, a bit wary about how to proceed. She slowly turned at him and her look was somewhat scared. Dante tried hard not to let his brows bow up. One sentence had changed everything about her appearance. She wasn’t cold, neither stiff, nor all feisty. She just seemed quite casual about it but his brows bowed up at the sight of her eyes turning wide. She sounded more bothered by his bluntness than his knowledge.

“No. She's a witch too. My whole family is. Except my dad, he was…special,” she said and slowly turned her back to him again. “I’m kinda glad you knew. I hate pretending being someone I’m not.”

He shrugged, as if he didn’t care “Took a while to figure out. So where’s all the pentagrams and the cauldron with the toad-eyes and chicken feet? No demon-worship altar either?” He picked up the fork and started to nibble at the spaghetti. Not bad at all!

She turned stubborn again. “No. There’s nothing like that in _our_ craft. We don’t work with demons and that stuff. We don’t…fly on broomsticks either,” she said, sounding offended.

He smirked. “Don’t do? What, you’re the ‘good guys’?”

Tess just shrugged, but she seemed pleased with that term. “Put it that way if you want, I’m not going to analyze the whole damn thing for you. We may not get in deals with demons, but that doesn’t make us exactly ‘good guys’. It’s not like you’d understand,” she muttered then glared at him. “Besides, you’re not normal yourself,” she said, crouching down and picking up the pieces of the broken plate. “You're a _half-demon_.”

Dante nodded as he continued to eat and proceeded to talk with a full mouth. This confirmed his thoughts. It made sense that if she was really a witch she would know by now. “Yup. So where was my mistake?” he asked, wondering about what gave him away and why she didn't seem to care or fear him.

He admit to himself that he was a little impressed by how calmly she seemed to have taken the whole matter. She must have known for a while. It probably explained the cryptic looks she directed at him sometimes. But still, her reaction to his half-demon nature was impressively fearless, even sassy.

“Nothing, really,” she said, picking up another plate for herself. “I can just see auras. Yours isn't human but it’s not entirely demon either,” she explained, serving herself. She cracked a smile. “Funny enough it’s actually kinda… _nice_ to look at,” she admitted.

Dante stopped eating for a moment and smiled. “Heh, you like my aura?”

Tess set her plate, but looked like she lost her appetite and she was awkwardly picking at the food. “It’s different than that of humans, devils or wiccans, like mine. I like things that are out of the ordinary. Your aura--well it’s interesting. Maybe I could show you sometime,” she said, then paused. “What gave _me_ away?”

Dante continued making a glutton of himself and replied again with a full mouth “You did,” he said, still stuffing his face.

Tess frowned and started nibbling at her food, less irritated now. “How?”

He paused eating to explain “Feels funny standing next to you. And if I remember correctly,” he said, pointing his empty fork at her “You said, 'I hope you fall on your face!' and I felt funny. Not even an hour later, I hook my own boot on my own ankle, and almost _do_ fall on my face. I don’t do the clumsy shit often. Kinda weird, isn't it?”

Tess bit her lip in a guilty manner and bit back a smirk. “That could've just been a coincidence.”

“And the old lady at the store?”

“She’s a crazy old hag. She calls me a witch because I’m a little quirky.”

“Bull. You know about Bloodgoyles by name and you said you’re surprised _I_ can see them—which means that you can too. What about your little fainting episode? If you dismiss it like some freaky PMS thing, then I’m Elvis.”

“About that,” she sighed softly and looked at him through the eye for the first time since he started nitpicking at her nature. “You know something's not right in that building too, don't you?” she said.

Dante noticed that she actually looked so nervous to hear whether he believed her or not that her hand was gripping at the tablecloth so hard that her knuckles had gone white. He raised a brow, finally halting his chewing altogether and swallowed. This must have been the first time that someone else had also noticed something he'd already known of.

He nodded slowly. “That's why I went back. Something funny about that place. Someone summoned Bloodgoyles in the back of the building for whatever reasons I don’t care to know. Not everyone can see Bloodgoyles for what they are, like you said, so whoever’s done it likes keeping a low profile…and they’re good at it.”

He took a forkful of pasta and kept explaining in a calm, yet concerned tone, while she listened carefully, evidently very interested. “The blood I found behind the store was too thick to be human and too stringy to be any animal's. It stunk too. That book you saw me reading was a book left behind by my brother; it’s notes about the different demons.”

 _Can’t believe I’m sitting here, talking about demons with a girl. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m sitting and talking about this shit...with anyone at all! It’s weird,_ he thought.  

Tess listened carefully to whatever he said, then shut her eyes and breathed out in a relieved manner. He could tell she understood he took her seriously and it clearly was a grateful relief for her.

“Yeah,” she said, opening her eyes again. “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. They’ve turned up before, in other places. Bloodgoyles can hide from people with low awareness or no supernatural connection. I know even some wiccans can’t see them, they only see red blurs. But I've seen them. Hell, sometimes I know when they’re gonna turn up. It took me a couple days to figure out what they are at first, and I had to sneak in my Gram's study. And that's not all. Something is going to happen in there. Something really, really bad. I--” she paused here, looking terribly serious. “I saw…evil there.”

Dante repressed a smile. Okay, that sounded cheesy. But the fact that Bloodgoyles had been popping around often was something new to him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“They’ve become something of a common occurrence, lately,” she explained. “Flocks of them flying around like pigeons, or stalking around on rooftops. And the scary thing is what they’re doing. They’re not exactly attacking people. They just sit and watch. It’s eerie. It’s like they’re observing something. Up till a while ago, I was pretty much the only one who saw them or even knew they were somewhere around.”

His eyebrow bowed up. “Why?”

Her face turned a bit red as she replied. “I-I'm not like other witches. I think…I can see things that others don't. I know things when there's no reason why I should.” She stared at him. “Like how you have two guns, one white, one black. You call them Ebony and Ivory.”

Dante's eyebrows bowed up but he quickly assumed a look of amused boredom. “Huh, nice try, Twig!” he snorted and took another forkful of pasta. He chewed slowly, his mind agonizing to come up with an excuse for how she could've found out about his guns. He knew he'd kept them hidden and that no one had touched them or been in his room. It was unnerving how she had just 'known' they existed at all, let alone their names, but he'd rather choke on his dinner than admit even to himself how much her nonchalant comment had crept him out.

He cooled himself down enough and swallowed before continuing. “Roy saw me cleaning them the other day and he flipped out a little. I had to do some explaining so he'd cool down and leave me alone about it.” 

Tess shrugged, shaking her head. “He didn’t tell me anything about that, if that’s what you’re implying, but whatever you say,” she said, getting back to finishing her food. “It’s not like I expected you to believe me. Why do you think Grams calls me crazy? I'm not supposed to be able to do that. It’s just not something witches normally do. Not without some messed up ritual, a truckload of drugs or a trance and possession.”

Dante slowly nodded and retorted “Nah, I think I do. You got some kinda freaky intuition there. I just hope you can use it when you have to…not on trivial stuff like what I call my guns.”

He finished his dish soon, and sat back in his chair and continued this conversation with her anyway. Something he hadn’t planned on. It was just still pretty surreal that he could talk about these kinds of things with someone—let alone the Twig. And there was the fact that she looked entirely different. Like she had dropped all pretending and was acting more like herself. Sure, she wasn’t the most pleasant person, but just dropping her defensive attitude and her aggression was a hell of an improvement!

Tess shook her head, “That's the problem. I don’t even know just how much I can trust it. I hardly ever control it. It’s like…it shows me whatever _it_ wants, whenever it chooses, and it’s usually things I don’t want to see, and often don't understand. Like…when I fainted. I can't begin telling you what I saw on the door of the building when I passed out,” she said with a pained look, then sighed. “It hurts too, you know. Like someone is hammering images in my head, it’s almost like an invasion. I'm not even sure how it works. I get premonitions or prophetic dreams. I hear voices sometimes. I see signs. Tarot is eerily accurate with me,” she trailed off with a pause. “It’s creepy. There’s times when I can barely tell reality from these visions. Sometimes I think it’s going to _really_ drive me crazy.”

Dante let a small whistle of awe. He half envied and half despised the young woman before him for such a power. But then she mentioned the pain and how it scared her. The lack of control. Somehow, he could relate to that.

“I'm not gonna lie to you,” he said. “I'm going after this, whatever it is. And if you try to tag along, it's at your own risk." He gave a faint chuckle. "I hardly know you, but I can tell you'd do something crazy…like following me without knowing where I'm going!”

Tess looked up to him, seriously, and half grinning. “That’s my plan. Can’t help that I’m really interested in this,” she let a small chuckle. “That’s the only time my craft messes with demons; we stick thorns in their sides. Besides, I can’t help it even if I tried. I hate just sitting around and doing nothing when something like this is happening.”

Her smile turned more sly and self-confident. It was almost playful. “And don’t take me for a weakling, I won’t be a burden. I'm not like other witches, like you definitely aren't like other demon hunters.”

He looked at her in the eyes with a snide smile and laughed. “Not a weakling, huh? Could’a fooled me! Aside from the spontaneous fainting and the twig-physique, maybe you aren't. But with those factors working against you, I dunno,” he said, teasing.

Tess shook her head with a smirk. “Whatever, I'll show you when I have to. Roy's a good teacher, and witchcraft's got its ways to deal with demons. And I have some ace down my sleeve,” she said, finishing her share of food and sat back, looking more relaxed and less resentful than usual. “Hey, wanna see what your aura looks like?” she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up with childlike excitement.  

Dante was caught off guard with that question, but it fired his curiosity again, he had wondered what auras looked like. “Uh, I guess so. But how are you gonna do that?”

Tess just got up from the chair, with a smile that looked playful. “Follow me,” she said cheekily.

Dante stood slowly with a half curious, half worried look about him and followed the Twig. He knew enough about witches to know you couldn’t always trust them. And yet he chose to follow her.


	3. The Madman In The Dark

Dante glanced out a window as they went up the stairs; the sun had just gone down and twilight was all the sky had to offer as they went up two flights of stairs. Tess was looking more cordial than Dante had ever seen her. He wondered if it was simply because she didn't feel the need to be defensive or if she was just amused by the prospect of showing him his aura. Dante was still cautious, but his curiosity about auras was getting the best of him. This whole ‘coming clean’ thing seemed to have brought up a different perspective of her.

Tess climbed the steps to the attic two by two, with a hint of cheerfulness on her face and opened the attic door to a large open space under the roof. Dante raised an eyebrow; it was cluttered and throughout the room was a multitude of cardboard boxes and old furniture anywhere he looked, some of covered in sheets, and a large amount of dust and some cobwebs.

The dust was so dense, that they both started coughing upon entering the room. She told him to wait in the less crammed space of the attic, near the door, and she began rummaging through some of the covered furniture and boxes for something.

“Oh, here it is.” She pulled the sheet off a large mirror that looked old and even Dante could tell it was a valuable antique.

Its glass surface was pristine, while the metal underneath was somewhat darkened; the bronze frame had a beautiful, ornate floral carving of _art nouvaeu_ style, covered in verdigris. The wooden legs of the stand had a dark varnish and bronze molded finishes. It was taller than both of them. She grunted a little with effort as she pushed and pulled it towards open space.

“This should do. Hold on, I need one more thing,” she added, while shuffling around for something else.

Dante just watched in confusion as she moved about the attic, going through some of the boxes and chests that were strewn about the floor. _What the heck is she up to?_

He knew some things about witches but he had never actually seen witchcraft being performed and so he didn't know what to expect. Finally she came up with a small ceremonial dagger made of silver with a round, dark blue moonstone on the pommel.

She fiddled with it in her hands, muttering “Hmm, this'll do. It’s consecrated so using it shouldn’t hurt either of us."

She paused and looked up at Dante who was eying the blade with interest. “Okay, let me explain. I see auras by default; what I’ll do is pass it to you temporarily so you can see what I see. It’s only going to last for a little while and it’s a simple temporary linking. We just need one small cut each, you to receive three drops of my blood in your cut and an incantation I'll say. That's all. No big fussy stuff. Okay?” she explained.

Dante looked at her sideways. She sounded like she knew what she was doing. He shrugged. “As long as you're not gonna curse me again,” he said with a smirk.

Tess waved her hand in a dismissing gesture, professionally. He thought she sounded mildly offended. “No, I'm not. I don't curse people at the drop of a hat, you know. But don't piss me off and I won't do it again. Now give me your hand.”

Dante cautiously offered his hand, not sure what to expect of this ordeal. He was prepared to give her a thorough butt-kicking in case something went out of hand. Tess winced and cut her finger first with the knife and then made a cut on his palm. However that did not quite work the way she had intended: The shallow cut on his palm healed within seconds and she just stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"Well, that makes things a little complicated, mister half-demon," she commented, jokingly, looking between his hand and her bleeding finger. "I almost envy you; I'll be bleeding for a while."

Dante couldn't help a guilty smirk. "Here, let me do it.”

He took the knife from her and cut a long and deep gash along his palm that remained open enough for her to hold her hand over his and squeeze three drops of blood out from her cut, while reciting a brief spell in the old wicca tongue.

Dante had no way of understanding what she said, but afterwards Tess told him that in rough translation it was _'Thus the blood speaks; as to me, so to you. The will of powers beyond us, the virtue of blood; you see with mine eyes'_.

He felt no difference when she let go of his hand, and it healed on its own. “Uh, you sure it worked?” he asked, looking around and into the mirror. He saw nothing unusual, only his reflection. The young man looked back her for explanations.

Tess looked into the mirror herself. She let a patient sigh, as if she were dealing with a kid. “You just need to look with better eyes.”

As he looked at her again he did a double take to the aura appearing around her. They were hard to describe; it was a subtle, but visible glow that looked like distant sunlight coming through clouds. It hovered and circled around her, looking like neither haze, nor flames, but a mix of both. It danced around her lightly without a regular pattern and constantly shimmered gently. Little iridescent, glowing bits appeared and disappeared in the otherwise faintly shining mass at random intervals, as if rising through water and then sinking again. It was pretty.

Dante glanced into the mirror and saw the aura reflected on it. Tess' aura was as clear in the mirror as it was in reality and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. He’d never seen something like this before, even in his tenure of dealing with demons. Seeing someone’s aura was pretty fascinating, but it still was quite a weird experience. On one hand it was unnerving to see a strange light surrounding a person, but on the other hand, the aura seemed…appropriate, making it a seamless part of her appearance, like her hair or clothes.

He then moved in front of the mirror to see his own aura. It was a mild crimson red, with lighter and darker streaks traveling through it occasionally; it was bright and vivid. It seemed to pulse gently and peacefully, but belied the powerful demon nature. He looked between their auras. Hers was gentler, lighter and wispy; it flowed rather than pulsed and had a brighter look. His was more defined, stable and visibly more unnatural. It pulsed with a soft glide, but took sharp, fast turns around him. He looked on with wide eyes, not sure what to do or say.

Tess smiled at his stupefied look. She looked pleased that she could surprise him. “I told you it was worth seeing. Human auras are never like that, just a glowing outline that hovers around the body. They're never this bright or vibrant, unless the person is very lively or something. And never red, of course. More like light reflected off a mirror, but a duller hue. Demons' auras are just plain ugly, they're usually black or some other oddball color and they look creepy. Wiccans' auras look something like a sheet of moonlight and smoke. Except mine,” she said, smiling fondly for a little.

He glanced at her and noticed her features smooth out rather charmingly for a second. How a smile could change this sour little shrew! When she wasn’t handing out death glares or having an icy-cold stare, heck, he could even call her eyes kind of _pretty._

“My dad had the most beautiful one I ever remember seeing,” she said suddenly. “It was like pure sunlight, but it never blinded you to watch. It was huge too, it wouldn’t settle. He’d walk in a room and everything would glow,” she said with a pause. “I miss seeing it.”

Then she shrugged and turned away, realizing she got carried away. She had not meant to say that. Dante watched his aura finally fade as she talked. The spell must have worn off. He looked over to Tess and hers faded slowly. She actually looked a bit melancholic and not her usual feisty self. He knew that look.

He got carried away too and spontaneously blurted “I'm sorry.”

He then just stood there, facing the mirror, but looking back at her, not sure what else to do or say. She had just shared something pretty personal with him, whether she meant it or not.

Tess breathed out. “It’s alright,” she said casually, shrugging it off as she stared blankly at the mirror. “I'm sorry if all this feels like too much to digest.” She bit her lips awkwardly. “I haven't ever had the chance to talk with someone like this. It's kind of a relief that I can drop the charade and just…be. I hate lying.”

Dante nodded, without meaning too. Incidentally, something quite similar went through his head. _No pretending, huh._

She suddenly turned to him, while curling a lock of hair on the side of her face around her fingers. He realized that she did that every time she was nervous. Later he would find out that she did it when she was shy too. “So, how about going to the store again to see what the Bloodgoyles are doing there?” she ventured.

“Yeah,” he said, then hesitated. She had shared something very personal with him, that she possibly wouldn’t have if she didn’t trust him, even a little. “You know, while we’re talking like this...” he paused only unsure what to reveal about himself.

He spoke in a firm, but uncertain tone. “I know what it's like. My father was…very protective of what he believed in and I was a kid when I lost him. It's unfair, but life deals some rough blows. All you can do is roll with the punches. You got the right idea though. I hate pretending too.”

With that, he walked passed her and out the door, calling behind him “C'mon.”

_Yeesh, I’m so cheesy sometimes. What the hell did I say all that for?_ he thought.

Tess nodded quietly with a determined look and followed him decisively. “If Roy's downstairs and asks any funny questions, just act like nothing’s going on, let me do the talking. Save us the trouble,” she told him while they went down the stairs.

Dante just nodded an agreement, shrugging and continued downstairs after her. Roy was indeed at his post in the lobby, at the desk behind the counter, doing some paperwork. He looked up at them as they came down the stairs and raised an eyebrow. They weren’t arguing and that looked suspicious.

“Called a truce, I see? Where are you going?” he asked them casually.

“Yeah, just going for a walk," she replied, like it was nothing unusual.

"The two of you?" Roy asked back, pointedly.

"Why, is it illegal?” she snapped back, flustered.

The landlord cast a deadpan look to Tess, then to Dante, then back at her. “Fine, just take your jacket, it’s freezing outside. I won't keep covering you to your grandmother forever.”

Tess waved at him. “Whatever, Roy. See you later,” she said, grabbing her jacket and ushered Dante out the door, shutting it behind her.

The weather was still windy and bitterly cold. It hadn’t changed much since the day Dante arrived. He simply followed her lead and as the door shut behind them, he stood still and smirked at her with his arms folded. He stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

Tess slung on her jacket, shuddering at the cold. “Don't know if you noticed, but Roy's our _familiar_. He’s quite bossy about me poking my nose into things like this. He'd throw a tantrum if he knew I told you I'm a witch. He's evil when he gets pissed—what?” she said, stopping her uneasy rambling and stared back at him.

Dante stood there, still looking at her with that smug face, not really caring so much about Roy's position, as if still waiting for an explanation. “Let you do the talking? What was _that_?!” he laughed.

“What? I didn’t want Roy to get worried. He acts weird when he gets worried. And then he blows his lid off and that's _not_ pretty,” she replied, annoyed.

Dante shook his head, scoffed and started talking and using hand gestures to emphasize his amazement. “You were so obvious that we were up to something!” he teased her, imitating her previous tone. “You could’ve gotten us both in trouble!”

Tess smirked “So? You _like_ trouble,” she replied, flicking some hair behind her shoulder. “Come on. Roy won't do much to stop us unless we're about to get killed. He won't cause problems…yet. I just don't want him telling anything to Grams. _She_ could get nosier than what’s good for her.”

Dante rolled his eyes “Fine then.”

He started leading down the way to the store again. The cold hardly affected him, but the wind blew his coat and hair around violently. Tess walked after him hurriedly, clutching the jacket on her. He glanced back at her and by the look on her face he could tell the cold was especially nasty to her, but she didn't want let it show and followed, determined. The wind whipped her hair around angrily and he smirked at her stubbornness.

The store was mercifully closed when they got there. The door was shut and the blinds on the windows were down. The young man walked right past the front door and down the alley to the building's side. He turned the corner to the back of the store; this time the fence door was unlocked and he pushed it open. He saw blood puddles again, where he had seen them earlier. These were fresh though.

He turned to face Tess. “Check it out!” he said.

She had followed him into the alley and coming up behind him she too saw the blood puddles. She looked surprised, as her eyebrows bowed up. “You're right, this is full of Bloodgoyles' signs,” she said, pointing at the dug-up ground around the puddles. “Look, there’s even the signs of the rite summoning them and it looks fresh. But why the heck are they—“

A loud thud, like a heavy piece of furniture had fallen over was heard, then the crashing of glass and loud wail came from inside the store, making Tess jump slightly and made both of them whip their heads in the direction of the store. Tess seemed especially upset by it.

“Shit…come on!” She tugged Dante's arm and both headed to the store's back door, Tess pushing it open. Its lock was broken, as if someone had attacked it violently with a sharp object, so it swung open easily. They hadn't noticed it earlier.

Tess immediately backed up with a small squeak and her hands over her mouth, to hold in a scream. Dante let an impatient grunt and pushed past her into the store.

Blood painted the walls. Irregular patterns of arterial spurts formed a delicate and nearly impressionist-style pattern on the ceiling. Lying in front of the door, like a twisted idea of a welcoming gift, lay a severed arm, sitting in a small pool of red, its fingers frozen in a desperate clutching formation, as if its owner had tried to crawl away. Tess had almost stepped on it, which explained why she had backed up so hurriedly.

Dante's eyes narrowed a bit as he scanned the place; more blood and a mess of merchandise littered the floor of the dark store. Most of the lights on the ceiling were smashed and only a couple of them were constantly flickering on and off. The bodies of the employees lay around, horribly hacked up and mutilated. The tobacco lady’s severed and headless torso hung from the counter she usually sat behind and her legs were thrown on one end of the store, her head on the other. Illegible symbols, runes and nonsensical rambling were finger-painted in red at random spots and the entire scene looked like it had sprung out of the mind of a twisted horror movie writer.

Further back, both of them could see a man's silhouette bent over another figure, madly stabbing at the fallen person with a butcher's knife, while laughing hysterically in a horrifying manner.

Dante rolled his eyes, then pulled Tess back, putting his hand over her shoulder and whispered to her: “Chill, Twig! Let me take care of this.”

He took a few steps in the store, taking in the scene of carnage before him, simply shaking his head as if it were someone who'd spilled some milk. He was used to such sights where demons were involved, but this one seemed to be the work of a deranged human being, which churned his stomach in a different way. He thought that even he might as well lose his dinner from the sight. He glanced at a chunk of guts strewn across the floor and bloody footprints walking away from it and cringed. He wanted to keep his face straight and not show just how much he was disgusted.

Tess had her hands over her mouth in shock, disgust and horror at realizing what the vision she had earlier, when she saw the door, meant. It made sense now. She’d seen blood seep out from around the door, pooling at its bottom and streaming away. If only she’d taken it more seriously, maybe she would have been able to prevent it. She picked herself up, swallowing hard to remain calm and took a step further inside the store after Dante, trying not to step in blood or any of the human remains scattered around. She felt so nauseated though that she had to keep herself close to a wall from fear of fainting.

Dante zeroed on the figure toward the back of the store. He walked quickly and calmly over to the back. As he reached the back of the store, he stopped suddenly and slid his boots across the bloody floor, watching as the man stabbed another, who was fallen on the floor and had since long stopped resisting. The attacker was stabbing and hacking violently, without any restrain and laughed manically about it. His victim was the same chubby Hispanic that Dante had spoken with the other day. He was still alive as blood spewed from every wound, his mouth and nose. Upon seeing Dante, he reached out for him in despair and as he did, his arm went limp and fell, relaxing along with the rest of his body. He was gone.

“And you are?” Dante asked coolly, glaring down at the maniac stabber.

Instead of a reply, the man just let loose a crazy, shrill cackle and swung around with inhuman speed, the knife pointed outwards and he actually sliced a cut through the neck of the teenager that stood behind him. The man broke into another hysterical laugh while Tess shrieked. She watched in horror as Dante loosed a bitten-off cuss, eyes widening. He dropped his knees, holding his throat with a look of disbelief.

Tess motioned to dash forward to help him, but the perpetrator looked over his shoulder at her, then turned to her in such a maddened way that she backed off, scared. She watched him stand up to a tall height, revealing a pale body decked in tattered and filthy dark clothes; torn trousers and a plain charcoal shirt, unbuttoned and flying about as he moved. He looked like a homeless bum, a fact amplified by his wild and greasy brown hair, cut short but with a filthy look.

His face was somewhat square, his cheekbones very prominent as the pale, sickly skin clung to the almost fleshless skull. His narrow, crooked nose looked like it had been broken in the past. And there was something so twisted about that mad-man's very gaze that it made her senses go wild and made her want to bolt. His eyes were huge, slightly bulged in the hollow sockets and had a completely crazed look about them, his mouth was warped in a frightening, wide grin, revealing yellow and filthy teeth in rotting gums.

She glanced at Dante who was still on his knees as the creep got up slowly, distracted by looking at Tess; the slayer's breath turned short and deep as blood gushed from his cut neck like a fountain. But as soon as it started, his breathing quieted to normal again. The blood spewing from between his fingers slowly stopped. When he stood a moment later, he removed his bloody hand to reveal no wound on his neck at all.

“Nice try, psycho. How 'bout you give me that knife before you hurt yourself?” he said, not at all scared or daunted.

Tess stared at him in disbelief, but she quickly snapped out of it and her eyes narrowed a bit and she watched the man before them as he turned and stared at Dante, tilting his head to the side a little. She hesitated to act, because she didn’t know what she was facing. She was getting confused. That man’s aura had something strange about it, but she had no idea what it was. She knew that the auras of disturbed people often were distorted somehow, but this was just beyond reason: His aura was like static, going on and off constantly, flickering erratically between dim white and gray. Just looking at it gave her a headache, like a mild case of vertigo.

Dante too was certain this guy had not much of human left to him. Under other circumstances, he would've just pulled his guns out and made Swiss cheese out of that guy's head. But he hesitated now, not sure whether the man was possessed against his will. If that was the case, Dante definitely did not want the blood of an innocent on his hands.

The madman broke into a series of shrill ramblings that made little sense, interrupted by randomly made cackles while fidgeting away from Dante in a confused manner. “N-no…nononono-- I _neeeeeeed_ my t-tools,” he hissed. “Yes…my patient -- my patient needs my skill. Her heart is failing!” he laughed, hysterically, staring at the bloody knife.

His large hand tightened around the handle, making his veins pop up under the skin as he suddenly flailed. “WE NEED A HEART FOR A TRANSPLANT!!! YESSSSSS we got a heart now. Jane? Jane can you hear me? Yes, I'm sorry but--b-but the anesthetics—they’re done,” he rambled in a crazy manner. “BUT D-DON'T worry!! I have it all under _controllll_ \-- I have a DIPLOMA! Yes, it's right there. But we weren't finished wiTh ThE tRaNsPlAnT!!” he screamed with another hysteric laugh then rammed Dante, one hand closing around the teenager's shoulder. “So-s-so try to relax--and enjoy the rest of this exTrEmely SkIlFulL oPeRaTion.”

He had a vice-grip of inhuman strength that surprised Dante and the crazy guy's momentum knocked him down. The teenager cussed and tried to shove him off. But the madman pressed a knee on the boy's chest and swung the knife back over his head with the other hand, intending to stab him, while laughing maniacally. This time Tess stepped in, having shaken herself out of the paralysis the shock caused her.

“Oh no, you don’t!” she called, taking a step forward. She raised her arm in an imperative manner, like she was directing something away from her.

Dante was concerned about her getting involved, but gaped a little as, following her arm's motion, a luminescence formed and before her arm was fully raised, it grew into a tongue of fire. It swung ahead like a whip's lash and seared the man's face, from the bottom of the chin straight across, diagonally and right over to the roots of his hair. It burned a mean line of flesh that sizzled and blackened with blisters that seeped blood. The man screamed, fell backwards and thrashed, rolling around and still holding the knife, putting his free hand over his face, while screaming his head off.

“AAAAH!! Burns! IT BURNS!” he howled, with among hysterical laughs of shock.  “Not again, not again _not again_!! No more! Pain!! PAIN! _PAAAAIN—_ Gracious fires of Hell! Pretty flames—no more! Enough paaaaain! Pleeeeeeeasssse, pleassssssssse…! I must proceed with the operation!!!”

He rolled over to his arms and legs and stayed crouched down there like an animal about to pounce. He was hunched and his eyes were now faintly glowing yellow all of a sudden.

Dante’s eyes widened in surprise, seeing the fire come out of nowhere. “Whoa! Where'd you learn to do that?!” he asked the red-head, kind of excited, getting up.

Tess was standing over him, slightly panting in her mixed excitement of the fight and her fear. “Nevermind that now—Oh man, this is weird! He's _not_ possessed but his aura is all _fucked up!_ ” she said, frowned in worry.

The man let a hysteric laugh and stared at both as if the burn hadn’t affected him. His eyes locked on Tess and they turned to yellow slits with black vertical pupils as he let a throaty, insane chuckle. He suddenly jumped forth, leaping past Dante and scattering blood and body parts in his way and came to a sudden stop in front of her, staring down at her with huge, scary eyes. In her surprise, Tess seemed to cower before the madman and yelped in fright. Whatever power she had to bend fire, it ‘locked’ from her terror, due to her inexperience.

“Pretty…eyes…pretty…like—like jewels…ooh _soooooooooo preettyyyyyy_!” he laughed like a maniac again and lifted his hand like he meant to touch her face with his forefingers. “They’re _peeeeeerfect_ for you, Jane! Perrrrrfect!”

She was so stunned by the sudden movements of the madman that were all but human and the situation she got into, that she froze up and couldn’t move. She stumbled backwards haphazardly, her mouth hanging open slightly and she made an incoherent sound of shock.

Dante grunted and made a dash to him with almost unnatural speed. As he closed in, he jumped and with a shout, came down hard with an elbow aimed for the back of the man's neck.

“Pick on a girl, why don’t ya!” he sneered. “Try someone your own size, sucker!”

Tess backed away in fright and backed up into a wall just as Dante rammed into the man, pushing him away from her to the side. She covered her mouth again as the hysterical creature let a surprised, mad cackle and crashed to the floor with the teenager on him. He let a drawn-out shout and cussed profoundly with a shrill voice. He kicked and flailed, throwing Dante off him with strength not like any human's. He screamed at both of them and they could see his teeth had grown into pointed, elongated fangs and his tongue had turned black and long like a snake's.

Tess let a small, disgusted scream. “What the fuck!? What _is_ this guy?!”

Dante was sent flying back into a food rack, spilling packets all over the floor. He stood quickly and called back at her “Dead, that's what he is!” he snarled.

The young man's face was contorted in anger, but the impact of being thrown seemed to have no effect on him. He neared the psycho and baseball-slid into his shins feet first, sliding in blood, body parts and random packets along the way.

Tess barely dodged a swing of the man’s armed hand and called out to the slayer, “Dante, no! Don't touch him, he's—“

The madman spun around abruptly, let a shrill roar and grabbed Dante's leg, yanking him up so that his arms were dangling down over his head, with surprising ease. Dante actually gasped in surprise. The madman laughed hysterically with a shrill voice that contorted into a warped, inhuman one. “Amusing! tHis IS amUsINg!!” he cackled, yanking back the arm holding the knife and prepared to swing it at Dante.

Finally breaking through her paralysis, Tess jerked her arm again like she was cracking a whip and another lash of flames hurled forth and impacted on the creature's back. It burned the skin black and burning his shirt in places, showing the skin under to be somewhat scaly. It screamed and arched its back, stopping the lethal knife’s swing.

She stopped in shock as realization sunk in. “Oh my God, he's not possessed, he's _turning_ into a demon,” she uttered in a small voice.

Dante curled up so that he could reach the beast with his hands, grabbed the demon's wrist with his left hand and punched his face as hard as he could with his right. Adrenaline rushed through his system, and Dante felt strength fueled by an oncoming bloodthirst. The madman’s head whipped back from the punch, the sharp teeth scratching Dante’s hand as the fist rammed into his face. He dropped the boy, falling backwards. The demon whipped up again, only to let a shrill cry as a burst of flames under his feet knocked him over and on his face again.

Tess had recovered enough and kept ready to attack again in case the demon was still in the mood to attack. Dante rebound off the floor on his hands and landed on his feet behind the madman. He had figured it out as soon as Tess had, almost; there was no turning back for this guy. He was on a highway to Hell, literally. Dante narrowed his eyes angrily. The amulet beneath his shirt pulsated violently and his aura suddenly erupted in plain view, a violent red.

Tess saw the aura grow violent and gasped. He had no idea but the power it exuded all of a sudden hit her on the chest like a hammer. It literally blew the wind right out of her. _What the hell is he?_ she thought.

Back at the boarding house, the Rebellion sword rattled violently and was then ripped from the wall it was propped up against, an unknown force seemingly calling it. It whipped through the air, broke through the window of Dante’s room and beyond all reason, rushed down the street toward the store. It broke through the store's window, passing mere inches away from Tess, who squeaked in surprise, then spun and hurled toward the back and dug itself into the wall. Dante smiled devilishly as he drew it from the wall single-handed, spun it around and dropped into a stance, waiting for the demon to make its next move. He was so excited about the fight that he almost forgot about Tess.

After barely missing being hit, she jerked her arm to whip another fire-tongue at the madman, who had sprung up after that attack, cracked his jaw into place again and turned to attack her with a furious shrill cry. The hysteric demon-man shrieked as he was seared across the face again and then shrieked again as the girl swung her arm again, making the 'whip' hit the madman again and push him back towards Dante.

By now any traces of humanity had abandoned the demonic madman; his hands had turned long, bony and claw-like, his face was warped from an even wider grin and his teeth were protruding from his lips. His back was a little hunched and contorted his walk. As he stood straight a crunchy sound came from his torso. A grotesque eye had appeared on his abdominal area, as black as a void with a white pupil that glowed with a dim, ghostly sheen. What was more disturbing of his demonic shape wasn't the eye, but actually the _inverted_ mouth grown over it. There was no voice, no sound, no tongue—all that could be seen from this mouth was its teeth, obviously belonging to some demonic fiend. They were as large as two saws on top of one another, with no gaps in between and they were actually the most horrifying thing on him.

He looked pretty persistent to attack her again. He seemed fixated with her and cackled in a shrill and broken voice.

“ssSsSSSsssoOOoooo…PPPPPrrrhhHHeEeTTtYYyyy EYeS!” he laughed hysterically. “Yeeeeees, they are… sssssooo… preeeeetty… preeeeetty for my Jaaaaaane!!”

Dante hurled his sword into the demon's back with all his might, grunting as he released it and followed through his throw by spinning and drawing Ivory. He only took a half of a second to aim and fired at the handle of his sword with a loud cracking sound. The sword hurled like a canon shot and bore into the demon madman’s back with a loud sound of shattering bones and tearing flesh. The momentum sent the demon hurling ahead, sliding on his face across the floor, knocking over a shelf before stopping. The demonic madman beat about, flailing and screaming madly, as his shadow, screaming like a lizard, seemed to rise from his body—and more specifically the torso, where the face had been.  

It was thin and longish, completely black, with skeletal arms, pointed fingers and no legs, only a long ‘tail’ that stretched back to the face on the madman’s torso. Its cruel eyes were almost white and were the only feature of its face that was visible. It looked like solidified black smoke and shrilled at them, while flailing like a trapped, wounded animal.

Tess screamed and backed up as it charged her, jerking her arms ahead and causing the creature to be engulfed in flames right before it reached her. She tripped over a dead body and fell backwards onto the floor on her butt. The creature began burning to cinders like paper, screaming and beating about, while the body writhed and let a mild groan.

Dante grinned at the demon’s death throes in a twisted way that suggested his demonic nature was enjoying this thoroughly. He quickly drew his guns, twirled them around each index finger, Ebony in his left hand, Ivory in his right then aimed at the groaning madman’s head. He glared with his icy-blue eyes as his focus sharpened and muttered “Jackpot!”

With that, both guns fired at the same time and pierced the demon's frontal lobe, while the shadow squirmed in Tess' flames. It let out a few horrifying shrieks of pain before coming to a limp pile of silence. Dante stared down at him, not yet holstering his guns. He was still smirking.

Tess stared at the whole thing with surprised, wide eyes, still on the floor, right in a small pool of blood. She shrugged her shoulders and stuttered “I-is it dead?”

Dante didn’t reply. After the fire finally died, he twirled his guns again and tucked them in the back of his pants, beneath his long, red coat. He then moved forward and drew his sword from the corpse with a sound like a metal poker against the charred remains inside a fireplace. He leaned forward over Tess and offered her his free hand and a twisted smile. “Now it is.”

Tess stared at him, in a quiet long pause, and then took his hand to help herself up. “You know, your aura turned plain _freaky_ …You're enjoying all this, aren't you?” she said, stiffly.

Dante just shrugged some, with that same smirk as he helped her up and sheathed the sword on his back. “Everyone enjoys whatever it is they're good at.”

Tess didn’t let him know how much his ease with this slaughter unnerved her. She winced at all the blood spattered on her clothes and tried to wipe or shake it off. “Well I’d like to inform you that your joy is very creepy,” she muttered.

Dante shrugged again. “That's your problem, sweetheart!” he said. His gaze swept the room then fell back on her, his icy blue eyes meeting hers in an intense stare. “As long as you can kill before you're killed, that's all that matters.”

Tess almost rolled her eyes. He was being so smug...

He moved for the back door without turning around. “Let's go. With all the noise we made, we're gonna attract some unfriendly attention.”

“Yeah.” She dropped the previous subject and just followed, casting a last look into the room.

They got back out in the alley, among the drying pools of blood. They stood and quietly looked at each other; they were both covered in spatters of blood, and as Dante calmed down from the rush of the battle, he realized it might not be too wise to just march out on the street.

Tess thought the same thing and huffed. "This is bad, we can't be seen looking like this," she said, looking down at the generous blotches all over her.

Dante scoffed. "Yeah, we're right out of fashion," he said sarcastically. "You're a witch, can't you clean it with magic?"

"There's no such spell, sorry," she scoffed back, glaring at him. "Besides, I'm not your maid."

"Fine, then just make us invisible or something till we get back," he replied, returning the glare. This wasn't the time for her attitude. 

She bit her lip, looked away and mumbled something, embarrassed. Dante raised an eyebrow and putting his hand on her shoulder, shook her a bit, getting in her face. "What was that?" he asked.

"I said, I can't do cloaking spells!" she grumbled, swatting his hand off. "There I said it, I suck as a witch, happy now?!"

He snorted at her attitude rather than her inability. "Heh, okay, okay, don't have to bite, Twig. Not such an expert now, huh..."

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, making an abrupt move as if she wanted to smack him, but she restrained herself with a huff. "Besides, cloaking is advanced stuff, I'd be a child genius if I could--"

Dante suddenly took her by the arm and pulling her along, he moved to the back of the alley. "Shit, cops already..." he muttered, as they both heard a faint siren approaching.

She followed, yanking her arm out of his grip. "Now what?"

"Just zip it and follow me," he ordered her. He stopped at a steel ladder attached to the wall of the building, leading to the rooftop. He gave her a little push, looking towards the other end of the alley cautiously. The police car was getting closer. "Go, start going up!"

"What?!" she blurted.

"Just go!" he snapped.

Although still nervous, she started climbing the steel ladder and he was swift to follow. He noted that despite her small stature, she was agile, quickly and easily climbing the ladder without hesitation or signs of fear of heights.

"All clear up here, I can see a police car pulling up in front," she said as soon as she was on top.

Dante tugged her away from the front edge, looking over to the fire escape stairs of the building beside them, which stood a few floors taller. Tess followed his gaze and nodded.

"I can make that jump," she said confidently.

"Good," he said with a nod. "I'll go first, to catch you if needed."

He took a few quick bounds along the roof and jumped over, easily making it into the fire-escape level that was at the same height as the store's building. He turned around to look out for her and saw run, then nimbly jumping towards the fire-escape. The way she moved in the jump reminded him of free-running and he watched her put her arms out and land on the outer edge of the railing with her hands, using her legs on the side to smooth the impact.

She climbed over the edge easily and Dante couldn't help but admire the fact that despite her earlier reactions, she was comfortable with action and in fact had some surprising talents. They climbed the rest of the fire escape to the roof of the building quietly, ever so often glancing down at the scene of the atrocities; more police cars were arriving and they silently agreed it was better to make a quick escape.

On the top, Dante looked around for the nearest rooftop. The one next to their current building was at the same level, but separated by a street's width.

Tess followed his gaze and she shook her head vigorously. "Forget it, I can't jump that far!" she said.

"It’s fine, I can," he said nonchalantly.

"Screw you, I'm not--" she said, recoiling.

"What, you'd rather get caught? I'd love to see you explain away the mess downstairs," he scoffed, getting to a knee. "Now quit your whining and just get on, I'll give you a lift just this once."

Tess looked at him, blushing in embarrassment. He looked back over his shoulder; she looked nervous about going along with it and cast a glance at the edge of the building, where the blue and red lights of police cars flickered. 

"C’mon dammit!" he snapped. "Look, just trust me, I can carry you; piss easy!"

"Ugh, fine!" she said and careful as to not hurt herself on the sword, allowed him to pick her up in a piggy-back manner. "This is ridiculous..." she mumbled, embarrassed as she put her arms around his neck.

Dante stood up easily, confirming that her weight was absurdly little for him, and chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling that to yourself; you're just excited you get to ride me," he said suggestively, making her growl and flail her leg, kicking his thigh a bit.

"Cut the bullshit!" she hissed. "Let’s just get this over with!"

Dante smirked, securing his arms under her knees. "Hold on to your panties then--" he said slyly and made a dash to the edge of the building and jumped from the edge towards the next building.

Tess held her breath and shut her eyes, cowering on him as he crossed the space easily with an inhuman bound. He left Tess' legs dangling as he let go of her suddenly to balance himself when he landed at the very edge of the building and her weight pulled him back a little. She squeaked and wrapped her legs around his waist tightly. From the way she tensed and tightened her grip on him, trying not to suffocate him, he could tell that she was frightened and smirked.

He didn't stop for long, just enough to locate the next available building and crossed the rooftop, leaping off the edge to a lower one right next to it, landing safely but giving Tess a rather nasty jolt as she pressed against the sword on his back. He kept moving without concern though, without even being in a hurry. Eventually she was comfortable enough to talk and keep her eyes open.

“This…this just isn't normal. There’s been a couple of murders around the city that sound like this one. If they are like this, then it’s the _sixth_ one this month,” she muttered. “The news said they were bloody and messy, and at least one newspaper mentioned symbols. I'm starting to believe they're connected somehow. And with what I just saw…” She let it trail off.

Dante replied with a cool head while jumping across another space between buildings. “Yeah? Thanks for telling me that _now_."

“I never thought they were the work of a demon or the ritualistic stuff or what we just saw. I thought they’d caught whoever was doing them, anyway and that he killed himself in custody,” she replied.

He took a deep breath to calm himself as he jumped from another roof to the next. He seemed calmer now that the adrenaline of the fight was leaving him. “What were those symbols anyway?”

Tess shook her head, holding on as he jumped from a higher roof to a lower one again. “I don't know. I'll have to ask Roy. Hey, knock it off,” she protested when Dante snorted. “Being a witch doesn't make me an automatic know-it-all. I'm more troubled with what we saw. The guy was _human_ and suddenly he goes demon; that is _not_ how that kind of thing works—not according to what I've read, anyway.”

Dante thought about it for a minute. _She's right. Humans don't just go demon like that, especially if they aren’t actively trying. This nut-job wasn't exactly a demonology expert. He didn’t have the looks of someone who knew what they were doing._

He shrugged as he made a jump towards the adjacent, taller building, kicking off the wall and landing on the roof.  'Why' was none of his concern, as long as the thing was dead! He continued his rooftop-to-rooftop route to the building, which was in sight already.

“You know…this could be big. And nasty,” she said suddenly.

Dante breathed a sigh of annoyance, replying “It doesn't matter. I got no leads to anything bigger, so all I can do is wait for the next thing,” he said.

She frowned at his attitude, but did not further it. She told him to stop at the building next to theirs and got off his back, explaining that they could not go in through the building's roof because Roy kept it locked. They would have to get down and go in through the kitchen door. They made sure the street and alley below were empty, then climbed down the fire-escape and walked up to the kitchen door.

As they did, Dante saw it pull open and a very angry Roy waiting for them, looking cross with his arms folded over his chest. Tess wasn’t kidding when she said he was nasty when he got pissed off. His glare really looked pretty darn scary, even for Dante's standards. The power and authority he exuded made the future demon-slayer feel like a kid facing a parent. Roy looked like he was going to yell at them pretty bad and Dante was full ready to dodge this scene, any means possible.

He smiled a bit awkwardly at the old man. “Uh, hey?”

Roy raised an eyebrow and glared at Dante angrily. Then he eyed Tess up and down too, taking in the blood spatters on both of them. “Come inside you two," he grunted.

Tess let a tiny whelp. “Uh-oh.”

The foreman waited until the two had walked inside, past him and then shut the door behind them, slamming it a little more strongly than he usually would. Then he turned around and glared at them like an angry sergeant.

“So, I hope you have some good, _very_ good explanations for this mess—and _don't_ try to throw me off. I happen to be rather intelligent, contrary to what you may think. First of all,” he snarled, turning to Dante. “I'd like you to know that damages to the building are billed. You owe me one hundred dollars for the window.”

“A hundred bucks!?” Dante gaped, but Roy’s terrible glare beat down any further protests. “Come on man!”

Roy glared him down. “Oh no, you aren't going to sneak yourself out of this one. You're going to _work_ this one off,” he snapped then turned to Tess. “And you! I expected a little more sense from you, young lady, not going and poking your nose into trouble. Think I don't know what your looks mean? You think that just because you two are a half-demon whelp and a budding witch you have the right to go stick your heads into the lion's den and _beg_ to have them bitten off?!” he barked.

Dante couldn't help raising an eyebrow. Roy sounded genuinely concerned for both…and angry.

Tess briefly cringed at the scolding, but kept her cool. “We didn’t—” she started.

But Dante felt the flare to argue and didn’t care what he was saying. “Hey man, back off! That loon back there turned into a demon and was on a slaughter-spree! Give me a break. Besides, I dragged the Twig into it. Lay off!”

As soon as he said that, his eyes widened. _Whoa there, did I just say that?! That’s bullshit!_ he thought. _Now I'm sticking up for her. Christ, what's next?_

Tess stared at him briefly, slightly amazed that he spoke up for her. Roy raised an eyebrow at him and his lip twitched as if he wanted to smirk. “Oh? Your fault, is it?” he said, as his eyed narrowed a bit. “My dear boy, if this _was_ your fault indeed, I would have your stuffed head on my wall already--and never underestimate me,” he snarled. “She shouldn’t have told you anything in the first place!”

“He's lying,” Tess cut in with her dismissive, cross look again. “He didn't drag me into anything. I was snooping around and followed him. And just why do you care if I told him that I'm a witch? I can choose who I tell or not,” she said stubbornly.

Roy glared at her in turn. “I'm simply amazed that you would go tell something so important to a person you hardly know…much less a half-demon.”

It finally hit Dante. The first mention had sailed right over his head, but it finally clicked. “How the hell do _you_ know I'm a halfer?” he said loudly, pointing a finger at Roy. “Snooping around my room, buddy? You're one to talk about staying out of others' business!”

“Don't point your finger at me, son, it’s rude and I might bite it off,” Roy growled back. Briefly his eyes showed their real color to be an amber-like yellow, with vertical pupils. The surprise caught Dante off guard; definitely not human.

The foreman snorted sarcastically. “As if I would ever need to go through the lodgings of a guy just hitting puberty. No, all I had to do was look at you for a while--and smell you. _Djinn_ like me tend to have rather acute smell, and believe me, water it down all you like with human guise and blood, but demons tend to _stink_ a bit,” he said, glowering at Dante.

Dante took a step back and sniffed himself curiously before gaping “Djinn?” in a rather flabbergast way.

Tess rolled her eyes at the whole thing. “Roy is a djinn. He's our familiar. Every wiccan has a 'retainer' of sorts, a creature neither mortal, nor immortal. Djinn are minor deities _,_ manifestations of the natural world.”

“Which is why _you_ can't sense me. I know what you’re thinking, boy,” Roy snapped. “I am _not_ a demon and neither do I have anything to do with the Underworld. Djinn are just as old as demons, but totally different.”

Dante examined the old man for a moment before it hit him. The yellow eyes, the glower and the accent that he thought he'd heard before… “You’re the cat! I saw you the other day!” he blurted out the obvious.

Roy chuckled. “I'm amazed you even noticed. Yes, I do assume the shape of a cat when I want to rest at my leisure. But neither that, nor this human shape is my true one. I prefer to keep it for the times I really need it. But the one not being honest here is you.”

Tess raised an eyebrow at that comment and glanced at Dante briefly. “What?” she asked.

The teenager glared at him. “What are you going on about, old man?”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Think about it. You're a half-demon. Wiccans and demons don't get along. Why ever would I let you set foot…let you _stay_ in this place, knowing you're a halfling?”

Tess looked back at Dante with a curious expression, then looked at Roy. “Stop dancing around it, Roy. Out with it.”

“I never have, and I never plan to trust neither demons nor halflings, except… I only ever trusted one demon. And you're his son. You're the Dark Knight Sparda's _son,_ ” Roy stated bluntly.

At that point Tess’ eyes widened and she let such a shocked shout at the sound of that name that it was unlike her. “ _WHAT_?!”

Dante lowered his head and turned away. He really hated these situations. Already he’d been attacked by demons due to his heritage more than once. He wasn’t surprised that it’d earn him special treatment.

_There we go…again. Sparda this, Sparda that,_ he thought. _I'm not him, damnit! Why does everyone have to judge me based on that? Why’s the old man always gotta be involved?!_

“So that's why you let me stay here? Because of my old man?” he turned back to Roy. “If my brother decided to bunk here, you'd let him stay, too?” he blurted, biting his lip for that.

Roy shook his head. “No. I let you say because _she_ said you could stay,” he stated, pointing to Tess.

Tess held her hand to her face, covering half of it and clenching her other hand in a fist so tight her knuckles were going white. “Don't pin this on me Roy,” she said.

Roy shrugged. “I'm not pinning anything on anyone. You did say he could stay. _You_ trusted him first and you didn't know anything about it at the time.”

Tess glared at him. “You never said anything!!”

Dante looked at Tess and cut her off. “Said what? That I'm a halfer? If he said I was a halfer, you'd have kicked me out? Just who the hell owns this place? ” Fire raged in his icy blue eyes.

“I never--!” she paused and bit back the torrent of cusses that she felt like directing at him. “I _knew_ you were a halfer, okay?! I knew because I could see your aura, stupid! But yes, I did say you could stay, because I'm _a_ _halfer too_ and I know how it bloody feels! I'm not a half-demon but I'm a halfer alright, and I know how it feels to be like that! Hell, I don’t even understand _what_ half thing I am!!” she shouted.

Then she snapped at Roy. “But you!! You’re supposed to tell me things like that!”

“You never asked,” he said merrily.

“I'm not supposed to ask!! You know what this means!! You know and you didn't tell me anything!!” Tess barked.

Roy just shrugged again. He had the nerve to be bluntly cynical to the young witch for the simple reason that he wanted her to realize the gravity of the situation. He made it clear that he thought she was being too trusting. “I didn't think it mattered. Since you were okay, I was okay.”

Tess made an incoherent sound of anger, frustration and disappointment that read ‘you're impossible'.

Dante finally had enough of the two and shouted “Would you two get off each other's necks! Bottom line, without me that crazy bastard would be running around. Be happy I bumped it off!” he said. “Fine old man, I’ll work for the broken window 'cuz I don't have a chunk of bucks. Everything's fine. I know about you guys and you guys know about me. Let's just drop it and go to bed!” he said and yawned after his outburst, ready to leave them and go upstairs.

A light, mocking chuckle came to his ears. Magda stood at the hallway that led to the lobby, smoking a cigarette perched on her long pipe, with her shawl tightly wrapped around her shoulders. “It’s not so simple, son of Sparda. It never is.” she said. 

“I got a name!” Dante protested, glaring at the old lady.

“So you do,” the old woman replied with a serene smile. 

Tess looked at her angrily. “You!! You knew too!” she shouted.

Magda only smiled wider at her, in a slightly mocking manner.

Tess seemed unable to contain her frustration. She had been duped by both her grandmother and their familiar. And Dante felt he had probably lied—actually no, he hadn't, just hadn't been inclined to tell her everything about himself, pretty much like she had. It felt like just desserts and she probably knew it and it ticked her off beyond measure.

“You…you—“she stuttered, glaring at the old woman with a really nasty, hurt look. “I _HATE_ you!” she shouted at last. Then she turned around and stomped out of the kitchen, shoving Dante out of her way as she passed while Magda very casually stepped out of her way and went into the lobby. Tess stormed upstairs and a few moments later a door slammed shut very loudly.

Roy cringed at the girl’s explosion, following the old woman to the lobby. “That really wasn't necessary,” he said to Magda, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, it was. She needs to learn her place,” the old woman replied, eyes fixed on Dante.

Dante, who followed Roy, watched her going up the stairs with a mildly bewildered and curious look. She looked pissed at everyone.

Night crept in and Dante had a lot of questions he wanted to ask but he was still a little frazzled himself. Tess had blown her lid and it seemed to have been the old lady’s doing. She said something about ‘what this means’ and a couple other things that puzzled him. Right before this tantrum, she had seemed absolutely indifferent to the fact that he was a half-demon, maybe even comfortable with it. She didn’t question it. But the moment the name ‘Sparda’ came into the fray, she almost flipped. He'd gotten all sorts of reactions from creatures finding out his heritage, but hers was...rather new. She seemed almost downright furious. And then she said she was a halfling too.

_What kind of halfer could_ she _be?! She’s human, she said so. Just what the hell is going on in this household?_ he thought and slowly inched over to Roy. “The hell was _that_ all about?” he whispered.

“Contrary to what my age might make you assume, Dante, my hearing is better than you think,” Magda interrupted in an amused manner. “If you do want to know why my granddaughter made the little scene just now, it is me you should be asking, not my retainer,” she said and retreated back into her rooms. “And you may want to avoid her for a little while. She isn't very happy with this. I believe she’d greet you with fire if you attempt to speak with her right now.”

Roy gave a lop-sided grin. “She's right you know. Tess keeps very bad grudges when she means them. Give her a day to cool down…or two.”

Dante decided that was the best idea. “If you don't mind my asking, then…what _was_ that all about?” he asked. He just had to know. 

True, he was a half-demon, but he agreed with Roy: Magda Templar was so imposing and had such a presence, even _he_ felt compelled to maintain a certain politeness when talking to her. Whether this was due to her wiccan nature or not, he really didn’t want to know.


	4. The Old Witch Speaks

Despite his frustration, Dante needed answers, so he reluctantly accepted the invitation to ask Magda about what exactly had happened earlier and what the hell was going on in this boarding house. He was cautious as he followed Roy and the old witch in her quarters. The last time he'd been in there, he hadn't had a good look.

The front room was kind of dark and most of the light came from the fireplace, which was elegant yet simple, rather than the light fixture above. The room’s furniture matched the style of the mirror Tess had shown him in the attic. A bulky armchair covered with fine maple-colored tapestry sat beside the fireplace, and Magda lowered herself into it, with the air of a grand lady, while offering Dante a seat on a dark blue sofa with a wooden frame.

It was actually where Roy had laid Tess down when she had fainted the other day. The walls had a dark brown wallpaper with sand-colored fleur-de-lis patterns arranged in clusters of four every few feet. It gave the room a rather warm, but enclosing feel. The windows are draped with dark, heavy curtains. There was a door in the back of the room that Dante assumed led to the rest of her home.

The room was cluttered with books and items, presumably of wiccan nature, on most surfaces, like a large table and a desk in one corner, along with a set of shelves along the side. They ranged from parchments with symbols, to animal skulls, sealed vases full of herbs on shelves and some random flower arrangements, everything in a very mismatched order.

"Have a seat, I understand you want to know about the witches you're now involved with," she said, with a serene expression.

Dante took the offered seat and muttered a word of thanks. Ultimately, she decided if he stayed or had to go looking for a new place to stay, and even though the old hag gave him an unpleasant feeling, he had to show _some_ respect or risk getting kicked out. It would be a pain to look for a new place to crash when he had already settled in nicely. Besides, he admitted to himself that he had questions, now that his interest had been piqued, and they were offering to tell him so…well, freely.

"So, what's with the Twig?" he began.

Magda smirked, as if the answer she was about to give amused her. Evidently, she neither beat around the bush, nor did she care to exchange niceties. "She made such a scene because she dislikes the fact that owes to your father. Or rather, since he is gone, she owes to _you_."

He looked at her sideways "What? I mean, I know my father was a good guy and all that, but why would she owe him--or to me? _What_ would she owe me?"

The old crone cackled. "I'm not surprised you wouldn't know. Very few do. Your father did a great favor for her father and my daughter. Her father was to be hunted down and executed by wiccan law, and Sparda prevented that. He made it practically impossible for me or anyone to do anything whatsoever about it."

Dante listened on curiously. He didn't realize until later, but he hoped his father's name was not tarnished by the detail about to be mentioned.

"And to make things worse for me, he played a part in their eventually elopement. Nobody could object to any of it," she continued. "Bear in mind, this was no mere trifle. Your father's word prevented her father's death, and assured that they were left alone by wiccans and their associates. There was nothing I could say that could refute or change things…simply because we respected Sparda too much," she said, clearly looking like the particular event she mentioned never, ever agreed with her.

Despite sensing that fear may have had more to do with that than respect, Dante got confused. "That's it? My old man saved her dad's ass?" he blurted. “I’m pretty sure he did that for…oh, just all of humanity. And you’re saying that he played matchmaker too? I’m having some trouble believing this.”

Magda chuckled again. "Indeed. But you wouldn't know her father's _reputation_. You're too young."

Meanwhile, Roy had locked the front door for the night and had come back in the room. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he seemed to fall forward and shrink into a cat. His fur was gray and short, but a little longer on the tail. He padded up to them and curled in front of the fireplace. Finally, he spoke up.

"For a while, Tess' father was notorious in the Underworld and among wiccans, for his own reasons, even though he wasn't a demon," he said, flicking his tail, amused. Dante stared at him. "In fact, I could say that in certain ways, Erik might as well have been _worse_ than a few demons I could name."

Dante looked a little taken aback by the cat at first, but he remembered this was Roy. It’d take some getting used to. What they’d told him so far had only made him even more curious. Of all the questions that hovered through his head, he started with one.

"Worse than demons?"

The fire gave off pleasant warmth, but the moment his father’s name was dropped, he somehow couldn't really feel it, like his blood had drained from the surface of his skin. And he was trying to imagine how a human could get worse than demons. Was her father one of those people who had made deals with demons and lost part of their humanity?

Then the whole scene just dawned on him and it was beyond creepy. _I'm sitting in a creepy-ass living room with a cranky and creepy old witch and her talking cat –my landlords!—chatting about the family secrets of another witch—my neighbor—who could burn my head off._ Surreal _isn't enough to describe this._

Magda leaned forward on her seat a bit. "To understand this, you need to understand the nature of fire. Fire is fickle and capricious; it purges, burns and reduces all to ashes, then dies with what it has consumed. Demons may use fire, but they can never truly control it. They can perish just as easily from it. Real fire, the deepest, purest essence of the element is an incorruptible power that is beyond their complete control. And no witchcraft can truly control it either, it is too strong. And yet one human, a mortal… _was_ fire itself and held it at his finger tips."

Dante listened to her without speaking. Hearing her, he got the impression that she was trying to hammer home the point that Tess’ father was an unnatural being.

Roy picked up the thread from there. "Erik was born to humans, somewhere in Norway, but showed quite early that he was not quite a normal infant,” the cat said. “Even today we’re not entirely sure why. Your father was as baffled with him as well, but he shared my suspicions about him being a _changeling_.”

“A what?” Dante blurted.

“A changeling, an otherworldy creature left in place of a newborn infant. I believe Erik was an _aos sí,_ a Salamander to be exact," Roy said thoughtfully. "But his nature was very unusual. Changeling never retain so much of their natural power once they are left in the human realm. And yet, fire never burned him. Anything related to fire, be it charcoal, be it lava or be it molten iron—it obeyed his every thought and whim. There were times his very body, flesh and blood, became fire.”

"He could control fire to burn even demons, even turning it against fire demons. He spared nothing," Magda quipped. "You might think, fire can be snuffed out and extinguished...but imagine that fire, given will to resist and fight back, to turn on those that would make it submit. It would devour them. _That_ is what Erik was."

Dante thought he knew what they were talking about. " _Pyromancers_. I've seen those before. They control fire, any kind--"

Magda shook her head softly. "And yet there was the difference with Erik, _dear_ boy," she said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Pyromancers are just weak and fickle humans and _can_ get burnt. They must evoke the spirits of fire to control it. They merely manipulate fire. This world may be fickle, but it still has its laws. Nothing, not even fire, can be created out of nothing. Erik bent those laws. I detest recognizing his skill, but pyromancers are mere amateurs before Erik's skill and destructive potential; a true master of fire."

"Erik needed no incantations, no preparation, no demons to lend him power, no spells. He didn't even need to have fire in the vicinity. He could create it out of nothing," Roy said, half closing his eyes as he spoke. "No pyromancer or wiccan can create something out of thin air, it’s just not possible. Erik created fire from his very being and controled it as naturally as he breathed. That's why the demons became so interested in obtaining him. His family was killed when he was an infant and he was taken away and raised among the servants of demons. They turned him into the deadliest soldier of a powerful demon lord. This particular demon was trapped in a crack between the human world and the Underworld after your father sealed the demons away. He himself could not leave it, but his underlings could."

"Wait--How the hell did he survive? You said he was human," Dante cut in.

Roy blinked, calmly. "Necessity is the mother of many things. I think that, because he had to try hard just to survive among demons and their ilk, let alone fight like them, Erik developed his skills far faster than he would have had he lived among humans. Plain need for survival taught Erik better than any teacher. He was taught no mercy and no pity; no humanity. He was taught to never question. He fought and brought down demons of great power and could lay death to legions of minor demons. He had no name, to them, they called him _the Salamander_. Because his human nature allowed him to cross seals meant to stop demons, he was sent to eradicate and cause suffering to humans too, particularly wiccans.”

Roy’s tone grew a little sad, while Magda’s expression hardened considerably. “Many wiccans had no experience of dealing with a human with such powers and they didn't quite know how to fight him. He took advantage of this and killed most before they could even tell he was a demon's underling. To him, snuffing out a life was like crushing an ant. He obeyed without question. Demons feared his master. However, Erik was less than even a servant; he was nothing but a tool, a means his demon master used to strike down his rivals. A _hitman_ , so to say."

The cat shook his head with a puzzling expression. “Frankly…it was a sad existence.”

Dante listened intently, trying to take it all in. This…did sound totally different from anything he knew so far. A human, with power nobody was certain of, comparable to demons, but working for them instead of trying to fight them. It sounded cruel and almost disgusted him. But it also brought up more questions. How could his father, the Dark Knight, have tolerated such a man in the world he fought so hard to protect? Let alone actually help him. It made no sense. And to think that Tess came from such a background…although, that might've explained her temper.

"So what happened, did my old man beat him or something and made him play nice? How’s he figure into this mess?" he asked.

Magda chuckled. "If only. No, I do not think your father ever faced Erik as an opponent. I wish he would have. But why this is so, is beyond my knowledge. Neither have I cared."

Dante was taken aback. She practically wished Erik _had_ been killed.

Roy was evidently a lot more patient and easy in his explaining. "Your father success in sealing the Underworld left a mess of warring between demons. Erik was simply swept up in it, because the demons would snatch at any little edge they could get. He knew no other reality. He never spoke about that time afterwards, and I don't even know why Erik eventually turned on his master."

Dante nodded, thinking he understood at last. "I get it. Okay, fast forward. Her dad kinda imitates mine and ditches his old boss. But why would Tess owe me for something my father did for hers? I mean, all he really did was…play lawyer or something, right? Doesn't sound like a big deal to me."

Roy shook his head. "It's not that simple. When Erik turned against his lord, it wasn't out of any noble cause, like your father. I'd disagree, comparing your father's rebellion to Erik's act. Erik did not have any real values or beliefs that humans could understand. That's how he was raised. He just got spited of serving another and left him without beginning any grand war or wanting anything to do with the demons further. In fact, I'd compare what Erik did to a _jailbreak,_ rather than a rebellion. Because he was no demon he was able to cross Sparda's seal. He wandered the human world like a vagrant, where he assumed he belonged…but he was unaccustomed to it."

"Hmph. A traitor of the worse kind. The selfish one," Magda mumbled in detest.

Dante's brow bowed up. "Wait, so if my old man wasn't involved with him from the start, then what--"

"Think about it," Roy told him. "Your father brought some order to the mess that the human world was and all of a sudden he finds out that one of the Underworld's most _messed up_ hitmen breaks away from the demons and starts to wander around the human world. If you were in his shoes, wouldn't you be—I don't know how else to put this— _concerned,_ maybe?"

Dante felt forced to agree. "Yeah, okay, so why didn't my father just slay him? Get the deal over with already."

Magda spoke like the matter still made her furious. "I wish he had! But my foolish daughter got involved in the matter," she hissed.

Roy gave a patient sigh. "Tess' mother was one of the first wiccans to come across Erik after his treason. Wiccans from all over were looking for him after they found out of his desertion. Erik had been conditioned to consider all wiccans dangerous and our Sophie knew of him as an enemy who had killed many people. She’d set out to find and either capture, or kill him, like many others. But I suppose it did not go really as planned. They fought…and then minions of his former lord crashed in. Erik was somewhat irreplaceable to the demon, you see, and they wanted him back. Quite badly too. And as the good old saying _'my enemy's enemy is my friend'_ goes, a truce was in order."

Dante smirked. "Wha—wait. And _he fell in love_ with Tess' mom or something?"

Roy nodded with what looked like a cheeky grin—if a cat could grin.

But Magda scowled angrily. "She crossed her family out, for that—that _freak_. She crossed me out, over that creature! Put a man over her heritage, her duty and her family. Her own kind," she muttered, outraged.

Dante kind of felt the need to speak up to the old woman here. "Hey, as far as I can tell, this is ancient history now and scowling won't change things. You hate it, but it's already over with. And look, you got yourself a granddaughter!"

Magda glared at him and when she spoke, she was so cross that poison fairly dripped from her tongue. "I don’t care what opinion you have of the affairs of my family, but in my presence you will keep it to yourself! _Hmph_! Past. I would erase it all if I could. What would I be, if I agreed my daughter, my child, to associate with that—that creature!?"

Dante shrugged a little at her bitterness and sighed silently. Yep, Roy had been right. Compared to the old lady, Tess was just a hissy little cat that had mood-swings. The _real_ shrew of the house was sitting opposite him.

"Magda, please!" Roy pleaded Magda to calm down then turned back to Dante. "As you see, not everyone would be quite happy with that situation. In his past role as that demon lord's hitman, Erik had killed many wiccans and had made many enemies. He was no better than a common criminal that needed to be executed. Not that many wiccans really cared that he wanted to redeem himself either. They thought that he just had gone over his head and decided he was better than the demons. They just wanted him dead," he explained, and then made a face of disdain, growling briefly. "Which is nothing but nonsense. He left the demons out of the need to be his own master. And with all due respect, Magda, Sophie wanted the same when she left. You have always been quite authoritative," he added, looking up at Magda.

"I did not want my husband's— _my_ family's blood spoiled by a lap dog of Hell," Magda insisted. "That girl is _tainted._ "

Dante frowned. That was too much. She probably talked Tess down like that to her face too. That explained a lot about her bitter attitude, but it didn't excuse it.

Thank heavens for Roy at least, who kept his cool even though his flicking tail betrayed his annoyance. "That is why your father became interested. Erik had no real clue about what to do in the human world and could say or do little in his defense when the wiccans found him. He had far too many enemies to be allowed to live freely. Everybody involved were certain he wasn't going to abolish his destructive ways and too many people had suffered because of him. They assaulted him and he was forced to fight back. Erik injured many but he seemed reluctant to kill any wiccan. He didn't want any more attention to himself, you see. It was around that time that Sophie interacted with him. As they grew close she began to shield him from other wiccans and became an outcast as well. They were close to start a real manhunt for Erik; had that occurred, he would have definitely succumbed in the long run, but would have left a bloodbath of wiccans behind. That's what your father wanted to avoid at all costs," Roy continued, his tail softly twitching as it wrapped around his side.

Dante took in the new information, rather speechless from how complex all this sounded, but it still made perfect sense. It still surprised him though. The idea that his father defended someone who had such an ill reputation and had been the root of so much evil was something completely new to him and reminded him how little he really knew about his father's past. And to think this had been something relatively recent, since Tess was by no means older than he was. It might as well have been one of the last things his father ever did before he just vanished. At the same time though, he reflected on how Roy had said that Tess' father had been nothing but a tool in the hands of demons.

 _He left them to be his own master,_ he thought. _Huh, that's like the Twig talking. Maybe that's why. Living up to daddy._

Roy observed his somewhat thoughtful look. "That's how your father ended up involved. He vouched for Erik. His word alone guaranteed that Erik would be allowed to live without fear from other wiccans or hunters of demons. They respected and feared Sparda too much to contradict him. It was Erik's only chance," Roy explained. "I was not present at all the actual events; those who know exactly what happened…are dead. So, I’m afraid I can’t tell you what passed between the two men."

Dante perked up at that last revelation. Roy had sounded sad again when he said that. It was entirely possible that Roy actually knew his father, or had at the very least met him.

The cat then chuckled and sounded like he was looking back at pleasant memories. "They started out all wrong, Erik and Sophie but well, they worked it out. Magda objected to this and naturally so would others. Yet like her daughter now, Sophie never listened. She wouldn't have it. She stormed and raged," he chuckled.

Magda frowned again, but she didn’t say anything while the cat reminisced. "It was quite sad to see her defend Erik against everybody and become alienated herself. But without anyone to speak for him, it was impossible for them to be together and Magda could separate them at any time—and there are ways to do something like that. The reason Sparda did not kill Erik was…well, let me put it this way: Sparda probably saw a bit of himself in Erik's actions. It would be hypocritical of him to deny it, don't you agree?"

Dante had yet again to agree to that argument. "But if my old man made all this possible and you hate it so much, why haven't you kicked me to the curb yet?" he asked the old woman.

"I believe in keeping my friends close and my _potential enemies_ closer," she said, directing a stone-cold stare at him. "I don't know why my _insane_ granddaughter insists that you are trustworthy. I don't know why she seems to have taken a liking to you. I don't know how you are connected to what has been happening lately, but heed this well: _I don't like it_ that she is associating too much with you. I don't want her getting involved with demons, or their schemes. I have lived this long by keeping to my business. Her mother perished by demons. She will perish the same if she insists on her strong-headed foolishness."

"Hey, that's what I've been telling her too, don't blame me if she likes getting into trouble," Dante chuckled awkwardly.

Magda’s cold stare did not change at all. "Regardless. She isn't like you and will never be. She is weak, in both witchcraft and her ability to fight. I may not have given any good thought to my son-in-law and I may have disowned by daughter, but my granddaughter is still in _my_ authority and if she acts foolishly I am obliged to correct that. If you want to leave, do so, I will not stop you. I do not intend to stop you from doing anything you please. But I have warned you. Don't involve her in any of your plans. The girl is unstable, even for a witch. Meddling with you will be her undoing," she said stately, then paused, looking very irritated that she had to say all this. "Please go now. I must rest. I'm old and my health is frail. Roy will see to it if you need anything," she said and made a small gesture to send him off with one hand, leaning her other arm to the chair's arm and resting her forehead against her fingertips. She did indeed look older, suddenly, and weaker than she had first seemed.

Dante stood slowly and made his way to the door but before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and added: "For the record, I think your attitude for her will be _your_ undoing. She's better than you think and she's got the right attitude. And she _does_ put up a good fight."

 _Did I just admit all that about the Twig?_ he asked himself.

Without waiting for a response, he left for the stairs but at the last moment decided to wait at Roy's desk for the familiar. He felt like he needed to talk to him; hearing all that about Tess made him feel uneasy. He understood some things about her now and some of her behavior but there were still things that puzzled him. He wanted her side of this story.

Roy came trotting out of the room after Dante, as the door slammed behind him, almost catching his tail and he yowled indignantly, shaking his fur down. "You got to her now. Magda hates being contradicted. That's what started her wrong with Tess. The little vixen never lets the old lady have her way without a fight."

He moved behind the desk, out of sight, and then suddenly his human shape rose up from behind it as if he had bent down to pick up something. "And frankly I'm surprised you're sticking up for the little shrew so much. I thought you didn’t like her."

Dante hesitated then eventually sighed. "I'll let you in on a little something if you keep it quiet. I guess you’ll wanna know. You care about the Twig."

Roy smirked. "Son, I put up with this _loony_ family of the Templars because I know when to keep my mouth shut. I only work for them because I like them, not because I'm bound by any deal. I could leave whenever I wanted. But I don't have the heart to leave that poor girl alone with Magda. She'll drive the girl crazy for real."

Dante was still a bit cautious, reluctant to talk about how he felt, but finally caved in to Roy. “Nah, it’s not that I don’t like her,” he muttered awkwardly. “I pick on her a lot, but now I think she’s really something, being a witch and all that. She’s got more guts than I thought. Now that I know that her family is as dysfunctional as mine…eh, I guess that explains a lot about her and me.”

He smirked a little. “And hey, she's not that bad when she's not angry at the whole universe. I don’t think she’s crazy. But don’t get me wrong! I'm not trying to get in her pants. I said I like her, not that I find her attractive or anything,” he added in a hurry.

Roy just stared at him quietly for a while, without speaking, and then broke into a fit of chuckles that he honestly did try to suppress, then into loud laughing. "HA! Ahaha…hahahaha! _Hmmphh_ …excuse me, I—hahaha! Ahem, I mean— _eheeheeheehahehehe_ …" he chuckled, turning to the side and covering his mouth, chuckling and snorting.

Dante stared at him; he never saw that coming. He thought Roy would’ve been grateful or preachy, not that he’d start laughing like he’d been told a joke. He sighed and stomped off.

"You know what, forget it!"

He clunked up the stairs in his boots and found his door, passing Tess' on the way. He stopped and stared at her door. It was quiet. He thought of knocking to get her side of the story, see how she felt. He casually raised his fist to do so…and hesitated. He asked himself what he’d say to her and for one of those rare times in his life, he came up completely and utterly blank, much to his amazement. His fist hovered over the wood while he thought of something to ask her that wasn’t going to make her slam her door into his face but nothing came. No matter how badly he wanted to, he dropped his fist and pressed on to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Roy was still chuckling downstairs. "Boy, he really doesn't know what he'll get himself into," he laughed, wiping some tears from his eyes. "Goodness. Tess, catching someone's fancy," he laughed. "Even after 400 years of being a _nanny_ for these wiccans, I still get surprised when stuff like this happens," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

 _Then again...catching the fancy of Sparda's boy,_ _of all people,_ he thought, his eyes widening a bit. _Huh, that_ is _a scary thought. Each one alone is a ticking bomb, imagine the two together._

The familiar glanced up, at the ceiling, thinking about the two contrasting teenagers. _She wouldn't, right?_

He then shook his head vigorously. "Bah! No way. She's a fickle little mess; no way she could stand him. Or he could stand her. Guess I have no need to worry," he muttered to assure himself and then went to go about his business.

Dante emerged from his room about a half hour later, carrying another tray of microwavable dinner. With all that had happened earlier he hadn't eaten, and he was starving. Tess' door was still sealed tight and silent. And he still couldn’t think of some way to talk to her about what he’d just learned.

He marched down the stairs slowly, not really thinking of much. The lobby was quiet too, Roy wasn't at his post. _The better. I don't see why the old goat had to laugh when I—ugh,_ he thought with a cringe.

When he reached the landing, he skipped the last step and landed with a louder thud. As he made his way to the kitchen, he found himself thinking of Tess. He still didn't get it. Why would she owe _him_ for something his father did? He walked through the door, popped open the microwave, and shut it gently. The button beeps were loud and could be heard out in the lobby, maybe up the building. The microwave turned on, and Dante leaned his back against the counter. His thoughts drifted from Tess to his conversation with Roy. He couldn't believe he admitted liking the Twig!

Dante sulked and shook his head without realizing. _No. No, I_ don't _like her. Not that much. She's a witch! She's stubborn and has a crazy temper. She's too spontaneous and her jokes are stale! She gets to my nerves! Not to mention never opening up to anyone. What's to like?_

At the same time a bit of his mind replied to him: _What's not to like? It’s not like you gave her many excuses to be nice, did you? She didn't lie to you. She didn’t run away in terror, knowing what you are. She knocks your ego down a peg. You can’t bullshit your way around her._

He shook his head again, as the microwave bell rang, surrendering his plate. He grabbed his food, shut it and made his way for the stairs again. He strode up the stairs and passed Tess's room, he cast a glance at it, still torn between wanting to knock, even to just intrude in her personal space for the sake of messing around with her, and not really wanting to see her.

An awkward little surprise awaited him when he reached his door. He turned the knob but it jammed halfway. He rattled it a couple of times. It seemed locked.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake,_ he thought, feeling his pockets for the keys. He gave an impatient groan when he realized his key was missing too. He'd managed to lock himself outside his apartment! He stood there, fuming and staring at the door for a moment. Roy wasn't around, so he couldn't ask him to open up for him, and he didn't quite dare to go through the foreman's desk on his own initiative for a key. _Guess I gotta wait till the old man comes back,_ he thought.

He hesitated then went back to Tess' door. _She’s gotta come out sometime. Angry at me or not, I’ll ask her for a key then._

The young man sat down and leaned his back against the wall next to her door to eat and think about what he could do to kill time until she came out. Maybe to think about what to ask her; he wanted to speak with her about this mess concerning their fathers. He didn't care if she owed him or anything, he just couldn't understand why. What he had heard about her had made things a bit awkward. Still, there was no reason for her to blow her lid off like that. She was probably furious at her grandmother and at Roy, because they kept her in the dark.

He was at least pleased that Tess didn't say anything to pet his ears about being Sparda's son. In fact, she didn't seem to give a damn about that. She had said she didn't care he was half-demon, in fact she took it very well. He felt that Magda and Roy were biased, Tess was just conflicted. He believed her when she said she had no idea. Now that he thought about it, he felt a little pissed at Roy and Magda too, who obviously knew and had been lying through their teeth.

Eventually though, he finished eating and continued to sit there, doing nothing, not even thinking about anything particular, only to fall victim to his exhaustion from the excitement and adrenaline-high action of the day. He dozed off against the wall.


	5. The Importance of Small Things

The next morning, Roy went upstairs to sweep the hallways as was his routine and at the second floor, found a surprise waiting for him. Dante was asleep against the wall next to Tess’ door. The old man chuckled and walked up to him, broom in hand.

“Hey, kid! … _HEY_!!” he called, jabbing Dante's side with his foot. “Wake up, ya little bum!” he said and jabbed again. “Oh, for the love of— _I SAID, WAKE UP_!” he shouted, tapping the boy’s head impatiently with the broomstick.

Dante's eyes peeled apart and the empty tray and fork he had on his lap slid off and clattered down beside him. Still dazed from sleep, he rubbed his eyes and yawned wide, scratching his head and stretching. Suddenly he froze up, obviously realizing where he was and his eyes bolted open. He slowly looked up to Roy who was chuckling and shaking his head.

“What in the name of everything good are you doing here?” Roy cackled.

Flabbergasted, Dante scratched the back of his head hurriedly, nervously smiling and only offering some stuttered excuses. “I was…uh…um.”

Roy even saw some red creep into the kid’s face. Obviously, caught in such a compromising situation so early in the morning and being left speechless were not part of whatever hare-brained plan the kid had. His wit seemed to have evaporated. Dante glanced nervously at his door and Roy looked between the door and him; he was very amused at the boy’s confusion.

Dante picked up the tray and fork, stood up slowly and made for his door, trying to casually shuffle towards it but then he faced Roy as if he expected him to just go on his way. But Roy stood there serenely, with a smile that was just a moment away from a full blown laugh. 

The boy hesitated. “I…uh,”

“You got locked out?” Roy offered, with a little smirk.

Dante shut his eyes, grumbled and nodded, clearly embarrassed.

Roy chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he stepped up to Dante’s door while fishing a master key from his pocket. He casually unlocked the door and then stepped aside to let him through.

“But I have to wonder, why on earth were you snoozing outside _her_ room?” he added, with an innocent tone.

Dante just let an awkward grunt as he finally stepped through his doorway, shut his door, and locked it behind him with a bitten-off cuss.

Roy finally laughed out loud and leaned on the broomstick, outside the door.

“Alright, if you don't feel like a chat, I can bear with that. Just consider yourself lucky she was spited enough to want to sneak out the window instead of out the door,” he chuckled. “ _Then_ you'd be in huge trouble. Oh, and your work for the window starts today, so when you're done getting yourself decent, come to the atrium out back, it’s through the back door at the lobby,” he said, then walked down the hall, down the stairs and into the lobby.

From inside his room, Dante heard him and bellowed an affirmative reply. He threw away his trash and almost kicked something in frustration. How’d he manage to get caught in such a silly situation, by Roy of all people? The old man had made fun of him so blatantly…and now he expected him to go work for one bloody broken window. Dante glared at the broken window that his sword had flown through yesterday.

 _This is the Twig’s fault,_ he thought, as absurd as it was.

He scrambled around his room, got changed into something he didn’t mind messing up doing whatever work the old man had planned—and Dante expected the worst. He winced in pain whenever he stood upright. Must have been how he slept… Swell way to make an ass out of himself. He only hoped Roy kept what he saw to himself. He didn’t want the Twig to know anything.

After a good half hour, during which he also went to wash his face and shave, he went downstairs, grumbling still as he made his way through the lobby and out the back door. He’d always wondered where it led to. He wanted to get this dumb debt over with, and if Roy agreed to let him work it off instead of wasting his money on it, Dante could bear with that. He wanted to get it out of the way.

He walked through the ground floor hallway, seeing the linen room and pantry, and out the door to the back of the building. There was a small garden out back, partially surrounded on three sides by the walls of the building. Looking up and left, Dante could see his room’s window. From the door stretched a small patio of cobblestone, with stone seats and a table, up against the wall. The rest of it was a pretty unkempt lawn with empty flowerbeds, a currently leafless tree and some shrub beds. Most of the plants were bare, due to the season. An antique sundial of black granite sat in one side of the lawn. A pile of random junk lay on the other side. The whole thing was fenced off from the street with a wire fence and boards. Roy was opening a small door on that wire fence when Dante came out the door. An open toolbox lay on the stone table.

“Good, you're not lazy” the familiar said, seeing him. “Put on a pair of gloves and come help me. This junk needs moving out of the yard. We're taking them out in the alley back here…”

Dante raised an eyebrow at the mundane activity but obeyed. After walking around the house and outside, his back felt better, but was still uncomfortable. That was bad news: He’d probably allowed himself to get too soft. He threw on the rough work-gloves he found beside Roy's toolbox and immediately set to work.

As he started sifting through some of the junk piled on the lawn, he asked “What is all this junk?”

Roy heaved very a large, heavy table with a broken leg. “Trash from the basement. It’s been there for years. No idea how long. I have to make some room down there, though. So I dumped it all out back first…now I'm getting rid of it all for good.”

Dante went over to help Roy with the table, taking up one side for the old man, while he carried the other.

“If Magda's a witch, couldn't she just… I dunno, _zap_ it out of here?” he asked. “Or you?”

Roy cackled. “You seriously don't know how witchcraft works. They don't just 'zap' things around—and I can’t either, for that matter. Not part of my skill-set. Magda's too proud to use her powers for trifling matters like this. I know Tess would, because she’s lazy, but she can’t; she isn’t experienced enough.”

They tossed the table in a large trash container outside. “And while I'm at it: Never ask any witch to use their powers to perform a mundane task she can do without them. Most get offended.”

Dante nodded, obviously embarrassed by his question’s apparent naivety. _Feh, live and learn!_ he tried to dismiss it. _I might have to fight a witch—might as well know what pisses them off!_

They went back in the yard and Roy picked up a rusted and broken bicycle. He seemed to have read his mind. “Yes, wiccans are kind of fickle like that. But that's the nature of their powers, you know. Before your father rose to defend humans, wiccans were pretty much the only ones who could really stand up to demons at a large scale. But for all their power, wiccans are still pretty feebly human…”

Dante pretended he wasn’t interested, but was actually taking it all in. _Why would humans, even wiccans, risk their lives if they know their feeble bodies can’t handle it, to oppose obviously physically superior creatures?_

It was a thought he often had. As he pulled some junk away from the pile to untangle them, he kept thinking. _I may be half human, but I'll never understand that attitude. I mean, yeah it takes guts and some people got it, but it’s just useless if they can’t keep up…isn’t it?_

He didn’t notice Roy watching him quite closely, and smirk a bit. The djinn could practically read what he might’ve been thinking from the look on his face. Roy was very old, and he had enough experience in understanding and reading people. He’d been watching the halfling since he set foot in the building, and he soon found out Dante wasn’t very different from some of the wiccans he’d watched over the centuries.

“You ever asked yourself why you go looking for trouble with demons?” he quipped, hauling the busted bicycle

Dante tried to stay focused, picking up a couple of old car tires, but smirked and replied: “Don't need to. I _know_ why I go looking for that kind of trouble.”

Roy chuckled as he dumped the bike in the hauling container, and cringed at the sharp sound it made, landing on other scrap metal parts. “Haha, I expect you do, but I'm not gonna force it out of you. Just remember that the same applies for anyone with the free will _to choose._ ”

 _Freedom to choose, eh?_ Dante considered the old man's question for a moment. “Three reasons. One, I gotta settle a score. Two-- _It's fun_.”

Roy just nodded in a 'whatever you say' fashion and kept carrying junk outside. While he worked, he kept on the small-talk. Dante had a sneaky suspicion it was more than just fickle old man habits, needing small talk to pass the time. Roy was probably fishing, to see if he could trust Dante in light of the truth that was now evident.

“I take it then that your mother was really completely human, right?” he said casually, heaving a bale of old, rusted telephone wire.

Dante gave a sarcastic reply as he tossed some random junk on the pile in the dumpster in the alley. “No, she was really a gryphon!”

But Roy could see past that sarcasm and he nailed the point on the head. “…When did they kill her?”

The blunt question had the effect Roy wanted. Dante froze for a second, his eyes glazing over as he lost his train of thought for a moment. As quickly as he stopped, he started working again and simply ignored the question while trying to push his mother's image out of his head. Boy, that had hit hard. He hated the old man for a moment.

Roy took note of the reaction and shook his head, then spoke quite honestly as he stopped in front of the junk pile in the yard, wiping his forehead on his forearm.

“I'm sorry, Dante, that was very tactless of me. You're right to be mad,” he said, heaving a broken armchair without a back, and carrying it onto the pile outside, where he tossed it in. “It’s just…it hits home with me too. I can't start counting how many Templars I've seen die at the hands of demons,” he muttered, throwing a piece of car frame in, after Dante tossed it over the fence. “…her mother and father included!”

_So it’s about the Twig. He’s worried about her. Jeez… He really does love that stick like his family, doesn’t he?  
_

Dante pulled some pieces of busted furniture from the pile in the yard and threw it over the fence for Roy to haul into the large bin.

“Then why do you trust _me_ with the Twig?” he said pointedly.

“ _I_ do?!” Roy protested “I got nothing to do with her choices and decisions! _She_ trusts you and…and I can hang with that” he muttered, throwing another tire in the pile.

He stopped suddenly and stared at the pile a bit blankly, his hands on his waist. “If it were up to me, I would've booted you out after the foolishness of you two to go sniffing around the store. Not after what I saw those damned demons did to Sophie and Erik. But I've... had to learn to let Tess make her own decisions. I trust _her_.”

He glowered angrily and suddenly he seemed to work with more vigor, like he was taking out his frustration on the junk, throwing them into the container angrily. There was a certain kind of bitterness in his tone that he tried to hide, unsuccessfully. “She’s fickle and a cross little vixen, but she’s smart. And sensible. She knows what she’s doing…” he muttered.

Dante saw the old man march about with frustration in his step. He tried to keep up, taking a few rusted and broken old lawn chairs with him to the alley and spoke to Roy as he passed.

“Look, I know you’re bothered. Sure, I’m part-demon, but I’m not a psycho, alright?” he snapped. “Just because I can kill a wiccan doesn’t mean I go bumping off people for fun.”

Roy glared up at him, while throwing loose junk back in the bin. “You've got the potential to kill a lot more than one lousy wiccan, son. _That's_ my problem. I don't trust beings with too much power in their hands. Tess says she trusts you, but I wonder if she _really_ considers your demon side at all. I haven’t asked her about it, but she’ll say it doesn’t matter. I’m not so sure. But I'd love to corner you and see if you know enough to keep yourself from turning into a _real_ devil, pup.”

That last quip finally got to his nerves. “Dammit, quit calling me _a pup_!” Dante bellowed, and dropped what he was carrying, and facing the djinn with an angry look. “You want to try me, then do it! I'm not scared of beating the shit out of you, old man! I've always had demonic powers. I'm stronger and faster than any human, but I've never gone haywire!”

Roy seemed to find his outburst amusing because he laughed in a slightly malicious way as he returned the stare. “Oh, really? Keep losing your temper like that and you're going _to lose your head_ eventually,” he said, tapping his own head with his index finger emphatically. “You think that you're good just because you can run fast or swing a sword. You don't know half of it. Power gets you that far—and then it gets you in trouble. I’ve seen it happen countless times in my life so far. Why should you be different?”

Dante walked up to the old man, getting in his face so that the rest of the neighborhood didn’t hear him as he growled. “Because I'm not whoever it is you've seen that happen to. I’m better than everyone you’ve seen. I can take care of myself, and I can control myself. My old man could had no trouble and it’s piece of cake for me!”

However, Roy very coolly stared him down. “Then you’re doing a poor job to start with,” he stated, calmly turning to carry out to the pile some of the things in that were stuffed in boxes. “I can sense demons too and when you get fired up like this, you’re like a bloody beacon.”

Dante, suddenly taken aback, realized what Roy meant. He remembered being in the attic with Tess and talking about auras and how they were affected by the person. _Roy must be able to see or perceive auras too. Mine must have reacted with my mood just now._

“You can see auras too,” he blurted.

Roy chuckled again, a little wickedly. “All djinn can. Different kind of perception than what Tess claims.”

Dante blurted a curse at Roy under his breath and went back to work, picking up the rusted, small ladder he had dropped and carried it back to the trash container, shouting behind him. “We'll see, Roy. When the time comes, we'll see!”

Roy must’ve had enough of Dante’s insolence and probably feeling rather impish himself, dropped the box of stuff he was carrying and swept up a long metal pipe from the junk.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’re worth, here and now, on _my_ terms!” he said, slipping a foot under a second pipe and kicked it up in Dante's direction while assuming a ready stance with the pole, like he’d hold a staff. And did he look mighty fierce and serious!

Dante flinched briefly, but caught the pipe coming his way before it hit him, with a sudden, effortless jerk of the arm. He twirled the pipe and held it like he did Rebellion. He didn’t mind it if he had to _beat_ some sense in the old man just to prove a point.

“Fine, you crazy old fart! Let's see what you've got!” he snarled.

Roy just smirked in an amused manner. He had the look of a teacher whose pupil was challenging them. He then charged suddenly, swiftly spinning and flicking the rod like a staff; he forked out several chained hits from different angles. Dante was a little taken aback. He had not expected such level of expertise from what he viewed as little better than an old janitor…neither that kind of speed! It annoyed him but not quite to the point of anger.

_D’uh, the Twig said he’s very old…he’s a djinn or whatever. Should’ve expected him to know his stuff…_

He actually struggled some and blocked every one of Roy’s hits, except the last one. It hit him on the side, smacking against his arm, making him cuss under his breath from pain. Roy sure had a lot more strength than he let on, and he wasn’t cutting him any slack! He was incredibly fast too. Dante let out a grunt of pain before glaring at the old man and charging with tactical swings of his own to Roy’s knees, shins, and chest. His attacks were a little slower than Roy’s, but seemed to have a lot of power and drive behind them. The adrenaline rush gave Dante a high, and the budding slayer found himself enjoying the spar with the old man.

Roy simply flicked the rod again deftly to parry all the hits, but he took some steps backwards as the youngster moved ahead with the drive of each strike. The djinn was smirking still and actually taking the leisure to comment on Dante’s moves.

“Good…Good, _yes_!” he chuckled about a particularly good swing. “That's too slow—Hey, don't keep your legs _that_ far apart, you're pinning your weight center, let it adjust, follow your movements—“ he cackled, and looked like he was having fun too.

Roy seemed to enjoy watching the young man fight. He liked good fights himself and having been a tutor in combat, among other things, for a long line of wiccans, he had grown to appreciate drive and determination in young people. And in his opinion, Dante showed a lot of promise, _if_ he could manage to put a bit of a leash on his recklessness and use his head a bit more.

Dante, on the other hand, was annoyed that Roy was being so casual and not a little patronizing. “Don't tell me how to fight, old man!”

But he did listen to Roy’s warnings, adjusting his stance and shifting his weight back to center. The slayer crouched and spun, moving to sweep Roy's legs.

"I will, because you're being sloppy!" Roy scolded, easily nullifying that attack by jumping back, letting the pole Dante swung pass right under his feet. He then spun his rod down, planting the end on the ground, heaved his legs off the ground again and used the momentum to land a relatively soft kick to the young man's chest while he was standing up from the crouch. He had moved faster than Dante had expected.

"You're fighting me like you'd fight an old wreck because you're irritated! You're forgetting that I'm old enough to know all the tricks in the book about fighting!" he chuckled. "You're far better than this, Dante, better than just letting your temper get to you and making you swing like a clumsy baby!"

Roy's kick was more of a push with his foot, but it was fast, firm and Dante landed square on his bum. He bellowed and rolled his legs over his back to get up quickly and then charged the old man, who was just standing there, pole still planted down and grinning benevolently. When he reached Roy, Dante made to swing high but spun and brought his pipe to try and hit Roy's left knee. Roy was actually fooled and swung high to parry but then his arm shot out and he grabbed the end of the pole, barehanded, a split-second before it hit his knee. Dante was surprised at his reflexes and the spar paused.

"Easy on the knees, son," Roy chuckled, thoroughly pleased. "I'm not as young as I used to be and the weather's been quirky—"

A loud crash from inside the building made both their heads jerk to the side and they stared at the door leading in the house intently.

"We got any critters around here? Raccoons, maybe?" Dante said lowly, staring at the door he'd left open.

Roy let go of Dante's pole and dropped his own too. "No such thing," he said and started for the building, his pace turning into a quick, anxious trot when a male scream echoed and a loud thud indicated that a door had been slammed open, like something had been thrown through it. Dante followed closely behind; he kept his pipe in hand as they neared the building, not sure what they were supposed to expect. They crossed the threshold into the lobby and then both stopped dead on their tracks and stared at what was going on.

The kitchen door was thrown wide open and a young man with the dirty, weathered and tattered look of a chronic drug addict was elbowing away from the hallway towards the front door, with his hand on his throat. Some blood was dribbling through his dirty fingers onto his soiled shirt. He had a black eye and his jaw had a shoe sole pattern stamped on it and its side looked swollen, like someone had kicked him. He kept staring at the hallway, terrified and whimpering.

Tess was standing there, looking stone cold and her eyes hard as steel, holding a kitchen knife that was slightly bloodied. Her hair was messy, like she'd been in a fight and she panted slightly, staring down at the man. Behind her, one of the kitchen windows was broken, as if someone had broken it to try and enter. Some of the chairs were upturned and the table had been moved, as if something had fallen against it.

 _What the...? Did she mess him up like that? No way._ Dante thought. _Then again…_

He got downright spooked for a moment because she looked that aggressive as she glared at the would-be burglar. He’d thought she was just a bit shrewish but now he had proof that she could, in fact, be quite dangerous. Holding the pipe down, he moved next to Tess, partly to be her shield if that guy pulled a gun or something, and partly to shield _him_ if she decided to go for him again. But to his surprise Tess seemed eerily calm; in a kind of unnerving way, actually.

He muttered to Tess, "You okay? What happened?"

"Good heavens," Roy muttered in surprise. He bit his lip anxiously and rubbing the back of his neck, he moved over to the shuffling and whimpering burglar.

Tess replied very calmly. "He tried to break in from the kitchen door just as I came in through the front. I told him to get lost and he tried to grab me. So I showed him what I do to guys that try to get too friendly with me," she explained sternly, serenely wiping the blood off the knife between her thumb and her index and middle fingers, then flicked it off calmly.

Dante's brows bowed up in amusement. "Pff, dude, even I'm not that stupid!" he chuckled, staring down at the man and then glanced at Roy to see the djinn's reaction to his slyness.

Roy headed over to the fallen junkie and just hauled him up roughly, smirking at Dante. "On your feet, you’re alright. If she wanted to hurt you, she would've hacked your trachea out, not just give you a cut."

He then nodded to Dante. "You two stay here. I'll be back in a few hours. Magda is out for the day, so just stay here and don't go do anything stupid," he told them, having noticed that despite her calm attitude, Tess was pretty pale. He then hauled the failed invader outside rather roughly.

Dante nodded with a sincere look on his face. He looked back to Tess and jabbed a thumb towards the kitchen. "Let's get something to drink. I know after all that work, _I'm_ thirsty!"

Tess agreed. "Fine. Then you're back to your chores and I to mine. I gotta mop up the blood and sweep the glass," she muttered dryly. She went back in the kitchen, playing with the knife, tossing it up and down in her hand in an unnerving fashion.

Dante just followed her to the kitchen. "I wanna talk to you anyway," he added, slyly.

Tess threw the knife in the sink and just stared at him. "About?"

Dante opened the fridge and ignored her question, asking one of his own. "What do you want to drink?"

The cool air from the fridge felt refreshing. Tess walked up to the fridge beside him herself and took a bottle of beer from the door shelves, then picked another one and handed it to him.

"Let’s go out back to talk," she said, popping the cap off easily with her hand, and headed for the back yard.

Dante gave her a sideways glance. He didn't expect her to be a beer drinker, but shrugged it off and took the bottle she offered then followed her out back. He popped the top off his bottle, took a nice, big gulp to quench his thirst and shut the door behind him when they got out back. He sat in the grass, one knee bent, the other leg straight along the ground. He took another swig and blurted a refreshed sigh.

He then thought of how to start and decided to be blunt. "I heard a lot yesterday from your granny and I was wondering why you suddenly stormed off on me like that."

Tess sat on the grass next to him—but not _too_ close—cross-legged like an Indian and drank her beer slowly while fiddling with a blade of grass. Her hair hung to the side of her face a little.

"So I heard," she said, sounding like she didn't care. "Did she tell you what a murderous monster my dad was, that he was a criminal in the eyes of everybody or did she stand most on the fact that he was a _dirty non-wiccan_?" she added with evident sarcasm.

Dante took another sip of his drink and replied. "Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. But that doesn't matter. Why did you storm off like you did?"

He gazed directly into her eyes as if searching for the answer in her pupils. Tess stared back, bewildered at his stare then looked the other way before he noticed that her cheeks and the bridge of her nose were turning a shade of pink.

"Because this sucks" she huffed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not angry at you. What your father did was important. I pretty much owe my life to him. But I just hate that I _owe_ you—no, that I owe _anyone_. It... It shouldn't have been necessary. But it happened. I also hate not knowing what's going on, thanks to Grams and Roy," she said, drinking some more beer. "You would too, if you were in my shoes."

"Hey, I didn't know jack about this before your granny told me. Sure, my old man did a good thing, but he did it for your dad. I didn't do it for you. You don't owe me anything, except maybe an apology for being such a shrew." He gulped another mouthful of beer. He checked the label, thinking _Good stuff!_

"I wish it was that simple. You don't know squat about wiccans, that's why you think so," she said, drinking slowly. "When a wiccan feels a deep sense of gratitude, sometimes their powers form an involuntary bond of obligation. And it can pass down to the next generation until it's somehow paid off," she said, looking away and drinking again. "Now you see why it bothers me that badly? It's my mother's mess but then again it’s not her fault.”

“So…you’re _compelled_ to feel like this?” he asked, trying to make sense.

“Not really compelled. It’s not brainwashing me,” she sighed. “It’s just a feeling that I inherited. It’s like I owe you a payment but there’s no currency. It sucks."

Dante chuckled at that last quip. _Right, so she's feeling funny. Man, you're really silly sometimes, Twig. You don't owe me anything, stupid, get over it. Just don't get sappy with me,_ he thought.

Dante shrugged. "Have it your way, Twig. I ain't gonna fuss about it," he said, drinking the rest of his beer and sat the empty bottle on the ground next to him.

She frowned at the nickname he seemed set on attaching to her, but kept quiet.

"Why'd you leave out your window today instead of coming through the lobby?" he asked.

Thankfully, she really seemed to have no idea that he had slept through the night, leaned against her bedroom wall. She smirked a little. "Roy told you, huh? I went out from the fire escape because I needed some time alone to think and I didn't want Grams to catch me leaving. And I didn't want to see you either," she said, frowning. "I don't even know why I'm sitting here now. Didn't really want to see you now either," she said hesitantly, drinking.

Dante looked at her sideways, chuckling. "One day you love me, the next you can't stand seeing me. I'll never understand women!" he laughed and stood up, stretching and letting out a grunt as he did so.

His back was still uncomfortable from sleeping by her door and he was very careful not to let that slip. After seeing that she hadn't hesitated to cut the throat of a random junkie, who said she wouldn't jump on him and poke his eyes out with a fork or something?

Tess glared at him. "Shut up. Just be happy I’m not angry enough to hack out _your_ throat or burn you to a cinder," she bellowed stubbornly.

Dante shrugged and walked back to the pile that he and Roy were working on. _Well, at least she's not letting the whole 'debt' thing to get to her too bad,_ he thought.

The air outside was chilly now, but not nearly as cold as it had been. It was almost pleasant. There was a long silence for a while, as Tess finished her beer, watching him work. "I found something pretty interesting when I was out taking my walk, by the way," she said.

Dante passed in front of her with an armful of junk varying from pieces of drywall to old wooden toys. "Oh yeah? What's that?" he countered.

Tess lay on her back on the grass. "Someone conjured up Bloodgoyles in the park last night too. Quite a few of murders and other nasty stuff's happened around there the last few months. I just have a hunch, but I kinda want to go back there to take a better look. Junkie-Boy stalked me from there earlier."

 _Huh, so that's where the bastard came from,_ Dante thought. He dropped the junk off in the alley and came back to the yard, speaking as he passed. "Fine, I'll come with you. I gotta finish this to pay off the window."

Tess chuckled, really amused. Seems she caught on to him smelling the potential for trouble and wanting in on whatever might happen. "Roy bullied you to help him clean the back yard?" she giggled. "Wow, I should give him more credit."

Dante frowned as she got up and looked at the door leading inside. "I'll go clean up that blood and glass from the kitchen. Grams might throw a fit if she sees it. I'd rather not be cursed," she said, getting up and picking the bottles up then heading inside.

She passed by him just before he carried another armful of junk to the alley. "Sure thing, bones!" he called from behind the fence.

He effectively killed some time this way so when Roy came back later, he came to the back yard after checking on Tess and smiled approvingly at Dante diligently completing the job he was given.

"Hehe, I’m glad to see you didn’t go back from our deal. Thank you. I see you’re almost done. Finish it up and you’re free from me. I’ll go replace your window and fix that leak in the bathroom sink you two have been winging about,” he said.

Dante grimaced a little, annoyed that he was tricked into doing the work on his own. “Yeah, you’re welcome…” he muttered sarcastically.  

But he figured Roy was as good as his word and kept at it. He worked the pile down to a corner of the yard and eventually carried it all to the dumpster in the alley. A broken screen, a busted lawn chair and what seemed to be cracked potion bottles. A couple of them had faded labels that had poison warnings written on them, which rather crept him out.

The day drew to a colder evening and the wind picked up again. By the time Dante had finished with the junk, Tess poked her head out of a window and asked him if he wanted to have a late lunch with her and Roy.

Dante gave her a sideways look. "I thought you didn't even want to look at me today?" he said, walking from the alley into the courtyard as the wind blew his hair around.

"I have mood swings," she replied, shrugging casually. "Look, you hungry or not?" she added, pulling her head in.

Dante's stomach made itself vocal with a moan that would depress a beggar. He looked up to Tess and called "Yeah, I'll be right up."

As she shut the window, he called louder to make himself heard: "Thanks!"

Tess seemed to have heard him because she paused, looked at him through the window and much to his surprise, she smiled.

Finally, as the sun set and only twilight washed over the building, before the lights were turned on, Dante collapsed on his bed, breathing heavy and covered in dust and sweat. Roy had really duped him into some heavy-duty work. The yard out back was clean of every bit of junk that had been taken out of the basement though and it looked pretty decent. Roy had declared himself pleased and the dept paid off; he'd repaired the broken window, and even gave Dante some cheesy yet heart-warming praise. And then he had a pretty filling lunch with Roy and Tess before heading out on his own to explore the city again. Tess stayed behind to help Roy clean a rather large moisture stain that had somehow gotten on the hallway carpet on the vacant third floor.

All evening though, Dante had been haunted by the memory of his mother. Be it that having heard of Tess' problematic family, Roy’s blunt observations or be it that he just missed her, he felt the need to see her. He rolled over and slid open a drawer of the nightstand next to his bed, to fetch the portrait of his mother and see her approving smile once more.

He reached inside, and only felt clothes and things. He got up with a confused look about him and inspected the drawer.

_Weird…I thought I put it in here. Actually, I haven’t seen it since I moved in…_

 He continued to search every drawer of the dresser. Again, nothing but clothes and a couple of dirty magazines. He frantically tore apart his room in a matter of minutes and found nothing that even resembled his mother's picture.

 _What the…? Where'd it go!_ he thought, almost panicked. _Where the heck is it? Oh shit! Did I fucking lose it?_

After another half hour of searching every corner of his room, Dante stormed downstairs for a late-night meal. He hadn’t given up the search just yet; he was just taking a break. Tess was in the kitchen cooking up dinner instead of Roy and heard him stomp down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was taken aback by the sheer bad vibes that he gave off.

"Ouch, you're like an earthquake. What's the matter with you, stomping down the stairs like Godzilla?" she said, adding some chopped carrots to a stew.

Dante snapped at her. "Nevermind!"

He tore open a box of microwave dinner, then literally threw it in the microwave and slammed the door. He pressed the necessary buttons angrily, making them squeal loudly. With that, he leaned his back on the counter, crossed his arms and hung his head, clearly frustrated. He visibly upset and he didn't seem to care if she saw him in that condition.

Tess stared at the whole scene with a raised eyebrow and a slightly gaping mouth, then coolly turned around, covered the pot with the food to let it cook and leaned on the counter opposite him in a similar manner, just staring at him. She was trying to think how to talk to him. He clearly looked really upset over something and for no particular reason, it made her feel a little sorry for him. She had a sudden inspiration but before she could act, Dante seemed to have felt her rather intense look, and without looking up, just barked _"WHAT?"_ at her, angrily.

Not expecting such a sudden reaction, Tess jumped at the shouting with a small shriek wide-eyed and startled. She then frowned angrily, and replied to his bad mood in kind.

"You don't have to shout like that! I was just going to tell you I found something you might've lost!" she hissed at him, then took a photograph out of her pocket and held it out to him abruptly.

" _Here_!" she snapped with a frown. "Frame was totally smashed, I had to throw it away, but I thought you wanted this back," she continued, a little less cross.

Dante peeked over at the photograph Tess held. His brows popped up. “No freakin’ way…” he muttered.

He instantly got off the counter and snatched up the picture. His brows bowed up, and whether he wanted to or not, a smile crept up his face and his features relaxed as he saw his mother's photo intact and smiling right back at him. He looked up to the girl opposite him, in disbelief and some gratitude.

"Where'd you find this?"

Tess shrugged softly. "Bottom of the staircase, between Roy’s desk and the wall. I guess it slipped out of your bag when you were hauling it upstairs. I found it yesterday when I was cleaning. I was gonna give it to you earlier, but with what's been happening I kept forgetting about it. First I didn't think it was yours but then again--" she paused. "Picture kinda looked like it was. Lady in the photo looks like you a bit. She's really beautiful," she said pointedly and smiled a little slyly. "She's your mom, right?"

Dante looked back into the photo, still having a lop-sided smile despite himself. "Yeah. That's my mother…" he trailed off.

Her small chuckle brought him back and he awkwardly looked at her again. "Thanks. I don't know what I would've done if I didn't find this. Even though she's gone." He looked back at the picture.

Tess' smile turned a bit gentler and sweeter now. "No problem. I know how that feels like. I miss my mom too," she said, her gaze shifting spontaneously towards the door to the lobby. She chuckled. "Roy says we look a lot alike and if I didn't have the red head he'd confuse me with her," she said with a little laugh, again coiling some of her red hair around her finger.

Dante smirked as the microwave dinged. However, this time he didn't move for the food. She was again a totally different person when her mood was good. She still wasn't anything impressively pretty, but she had a certain sassy cuteness. "The girl in the photo out in the lobby?"

"Yup. That's my mom. I think she was a little over seventeen, in that picture," she replied, quite proudly.

Dante recollected the look of the young woman. He remembered Roy had said her name had been Sophie. So she wasn't too older than her daughter when that photo was taken. She definitely looked more beautiful, charming and likable than Tess, but Dante could see the resemblance. Particularly the eyes, although her mother definitely must have had a better attitude!

"He's right, you two do look a lot alike!" he said as his gaze shifted towards the lobby, then back to Tess, then back to his own picture. He couldn't help it; he _had_ to tease her again! "I bet she woulda been proud to see her _Twig_ develop into a nice, healthy branch," he said.

Tess at first smiled a bit then she suddenly realized she got called Twig again and her eyes peeled wide. "Stop calling me that!" she protested. “I swear, it’s just so stupid…”

Dante bit back a laugh. _Heh, got you again. She's funny when she gets pissed. And…kinda cute, I guess._ Dante winked at her. "You got it, Bones."

He retrieved his dish from the microwave and made for his room, thudding up the stairs before she could get back at him or say anything. The joke turned out to be on him though, for when he reached his room, he found that everything was an absolute mess from the frantic searching for the picture he now held in his hand.

 _I bet she cursed me again…_ he thought with a soft sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	6. Ice and Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still amazed at how bad my writing used to be circa 2008. :D

It was around eleven at night that the building quieted down entirely. The lights were all off, except the table-top light on the front counter that shed a soft yellow light around the large lobby. Roy was in his cat form, curled next to one of the heating shafts along the wall. He seemed to be sleeping deeply. Having worked all day, the djinn now stayed true to his feline nature by wanting a warm place to snug down onto and sleep. Tess had been counting on that when she told Dante about going to check the park out. She was certain that after the last escapade, the only way he wasn't going to get involved and possibly ruin their venturing, would be for them to sneak out. Although Dante honestly didn't care about the djinn, upon thinking about it better he had to agree.

That’s all he could discern from the top of the stairs as he peeked downwards to the lobby. He closed his door quietly and making sure he took his keys with him this time, Dante looked out the dark hallway, then gently walked across the hardwood floor to Tess's room. She had told him to walk quietly so that Roy wouldn't know they were up to something and rain any more of his fury down on them. His sword was secured to his back while his trademark handguns were tucked in the back of his pants and hidden by his coat. He was coming fully prepared this time. He quietly knocked on Tess' door. He couldn't wait to get outside. Normally he might not have cared whether she came or not, but he needed her to take him to that park and she seemed to become aware of certain things sooner than he did.

Besides, things somehow seemed to become more interesting with her around.

Tess opened her door suddenly and quietly and stepped out. She was wearing sturdy, slightly fitting jeans and a thick, baggy black hoodie under a denim jacket, a deep red and black scarf and her hair was tightly tied in a ponytail high on her head.

"Come on. Let's get out before Roy or Grams catch us. I got something to tell you too," she said lowly and made for the stairs, on her tip toes. Dante noticed she was pretty stealthy and knew exactly which steps and boards creaked and avoided them. "We can't use the fire-escape; it’s covered with ice. We'd either just fall right off and break out necks or wake everyone trying to get down."

Dante just shrugged and followed close behind as she led him downstairs. He was very careful not to make any noise and watched carefully which boards she avoided. He couldn't wait to get out to the park tonight, especially, because he was almost guaranteed a good fight. Besides, it might be a good chance to test what he’d learned from Roy during their little spar.

The djinn in question was still sleeping in his corner. He shuffled and bellowed softly in his sleep, then twitched his ears as Tess made her way lightly down the stairs and past the sleeping cat, on her toes almost. Dante stared at the cat a little warily as he made his way past him too, very quietly. She headed for the back door leading to the back yard and gestured to him to follow.

"Not the front door, the draft will wake him up," she whispered to Dante and opened the back door gently and pulled him out before shutting it quietly.

The weather outside had turned to the worse; it was windy, cold and in fact, it had been snowing heavily since dinner-time as well. The snow had settled in a thin layer, but was growing thicker. The flakes drifted to the ground in clusters, without melting and the wind made them dance a little.

Dante was pretty relieved to be outside. The cold was refreshing, but he knew that unless they started moving, it was going to turn uncomfortable. He looked at the dark, cloudy sky, chuckled and opened his mouth, catching several flakes on his tongue. Seeing him do that, Tess chuckled and held out her hand to watch some flakes land softly on it.

Soon he was following Tess again, still muttering "What did you want to tell me?"

Tess unlocked the back fence door and held it open for him to go through so she could lock it up again. She seemed frustrated as she bolted it from the outside.

"I tried to tell Grams about what’s going on and what we saw the other day. I'm convinced something is wrong and that people are being killed because of it. We've got to do something while it’s still early. But she wouldn't listen to a thing, stubborn old hag. She keeps insisting that we should stay out of all this. How _can_ I stay out of all this when I keep getting these...these visions? I don't care if everyone thinks I'm just going crazy.  I want them to stop. I want _her_ to stop calling me crazy," she said, and locked the fence with a loud snapping sound. "Unless _you_ think I'm crazy too."

Dante smirked. "Of course I think you're crazy. I like it. Now let's go! Where's that park?"

She let a small laugh at his attitude but she seemed to appreciate that he took her seriously. They’d barely reached the main street when suddenly, a very strong and cold wind caught up with them. Dante just frowned but Tess blurted a little yelp and shrugged against her jacket and scarf. She muttered something about underestimating just how cold it was.

“No time to go back inside. I’ll just have to tough it out,” she said and Dante thought he heard her teeth chatter. “Come on--”

Dante put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Wait."

She stood, puzzled, as he took his sword off his back and stuck its tip into the ground. He removed his heavy coat, already warm from his body heat and draped it over her stiff shoulders. He was wearing a thick black sweater with a snug turtle-neck, warm pants and gloves. He figured that being a fire-related witch, cold was just naturally bad for her.

Before she could object, he secured his sword to his back and with a small smirk said: "Too late. My sword's back on and I'm not taking it off again. Lead on."

Tess was left staring at him in surprise and then she blushed. She turned so red that her face seemed to be trying to match her hair.

"Uh...I--" she stuttered, a bit overwhelmed at his kindness and at _how huge_ the coat was and didn't realize that her face was turning so red. She held up her arms and the sleeves trailed beyond her hands comically and she stared at them, perplexed.

Dante, amused by her look and her blushing, smiled widely. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I make you blush?" he chuckled. "Don't read too much into it, Twig. I know you love me, but I just don't wanna hear you complain."

Of course he was lying, and whether or not it showed, he didn't care either way. He held his arm out toward the street as if to say 'After you.'

She stared back with wide eyes, struggling to overcome her confusion and probably trying to control all that blushing. Then she squinted at him in contempt about his teasing and opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it immediately and shook her head in frustration.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

She stomped ahead, pulling the coat on properly. It was way too big on her and her hands were still well into the sleeves while the bottom end dragged a bit on the snow as she walked. Her ponytail blended almost entirely against the coat. It was funny to see her walk angrily with that thing on…and kind of _cute_.

Dante laughed to himself as he followed closely and, wanting to add some fuel to the fire, suggested: "Just roll up the sleeves if you need. And it zips up if you're still cold."

He laughed again to himself. _Doesn't she know you can't be taken seriously in over-sized clothes? Man, she really is puny._

He wasn’t really cold enough to need his coat, as his regular clothes sufficed for him. Besides, he was so certain that they would get into a fight, he knew he’d get warmed up as soon as that started.

She frowned. "You don't have to make fun of me because I'm short. I could still kick your ass if I wanted," she huffed, as the next blast of wind made her hair whip around.

"I know. But I was serious about the sleeves and zipper," Dante said as they rounded another corner. Of course, he didn't buy into her confidence, but he let that slide. "So how much further?"

"A few blocks ahead," she replied. Her cheeks were still pretty pink but it was hard to tell whether it was because of the cold or whether she was still embarrassed. "Tell me something," she went on, hesitantly. "What's…what's the worst demon you’ve seen? If worse comes to worse, I'd rather know what I should be prepared for."

Dante was startled a little. Her question hit him harder than he thought it could’ve. Memories of the worst experience were still far too raw and came flooding in. He remembered everything so vividly, as if it was yesterday. He remembered his mother in panic, hiding him and his brother in a secret alcove of the wall. Then came the loud crashes and blinding light. Dante had peeked through a crack of the hiding place and saw three floating red orbs. His mother had resisted and then there was another blinding light, and his sight was filled with a horrible red. He had closed his eyes and resisted the urge to scream, paralyzed from fear. He’d tried to drown out the awful sounds from outside by focusing on Vergil’s panicked breathing.

They didn’t dare venture out for a long time—Dante actually had lost track of time. He thought they were trapped in there for years and years when it was likely no more than a few hours. It was well into the night when they emerged to a sight that no kid should ever see: A few strands of their mother's hair and blood were spattered against the wall, the floors, everywhere. Their home had been pretty much destroyed around them. He’d actually fought to wipe from his memory the goriest details of the event.

He shook his head briefly to snap out of it. His expression had instantly slipped into a very depressed look and he simply shrugged off the question, silently. He hadn't realized the flashback had made him stop walking. Tess was standing in front of him, looking upset. She had a strange expression on her face, as if she realized she’d triggered something bad. She hesitated and then her hand reached out from in the trailing sleeve of his coat and gently touched his hand, as if she was trying to shake him out of his daze. It was surprisingly warm and delicate.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something to upset you. That was really tactless of me," she said quietly and stared at the ground, looking embarrassed.

He got the impression she wasn’t just empathizing; she knew that kind of feeling. Somehow that bugged him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He wondered whether she realized what she made him think of. Probably not.

Dante just shook his head and shrugged, taking his hand away from hers while feeling his face get a little hot. Was she getting all sentimental on him? He shut his eyes and walked passed her, saying "It's fine," in a completely cold manner.

When he was sure his back was facing her and she couldn't see his face, he quickly raised his hand to wipe his eyes before Tess caught up. The cold was excuse enough for red eyes and he slowed down his earlier strut so she could catch up.

Tess jogged after him. She sounded a little upset still about what her question caused. "I just wanted to know if you've seen anything like this. I'm starting to think there's some kind of pattern. Bloodgoyles like appearing where a lot of bloodshed has taken place and there’s been quite a lot of violent crime that peaked all of a sudden around here. It’s been pretty awful stuff, too. Any time they find someone who did these things, they’re usually deemed mentally unstable-- _completely crazy_. I just don't know what to think anymore."

Dante had recovered enough to reply in a deep but not hostile tone. " _I_ think that there's only one big loony demon. He's probably using hosts or puppets to do his bidding so he can stay out of the fray. But I see the pattern too, with the Bloodgoyles. I think the perpetrators being possessed or turning into demons sort of act like beacons for them. Sounds like some kinda ritual to me."

Tess nodded. "Yeah, same here. But what would a rite like that be for? The manner they're conducted in doesn't fit with any ritual sacrifice rite, even the most ' _gorefest'_ ones I know of. There's no method. There’s no order. It's like the whole purpose is--"

"--to just end up with as much pointless carnage and mayhem as possible, right?" Dante finished her thought.

"Yes. I don't get it. I checked those runes and glyphs we saw, but they just don't make sense. Then there's the issue of that guy. I can tell when a human is possessed and he wasn't. But it was weird; his aura…was all screwed up! I don't know what that means, but it gives me the creeps to remember how it even looked. It’s like he was _turning_ into a demon."

Dante shrugged. "None of that really matters. Glyphs and runes, crazy lunatics, causes and excuses… All that matters is what _is_ and that's all to it. If a fight's in order tonight, all the better, I'm lookin' forward to it."

The look in his eyes was harsh and cold, with a vengeful glee. He always felt good when he killed demons and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Though she saw it on his face and she looked a little taken aback judging from her frown, Dante quietly thanked her for perking up his motivation that evening.

“Still… I can’t help feeling worried,” she huffed. “Demons might be everyday occurrence for you, but in this case, it’s the first time they’ve popped up around here in years.”

Dante chuckled a bit. "You worry too much. We can deal with anything that happens.”

She gave a lopsided smile, a bit embarrassed. "I guess. I’m not too sure about what I’ll be able to do."

“Well you can always just duck for cover when the action starts…” Dante shrugged and she growled at him a little. "My target's that park, for now. I wanna see what you talked about for myself. Who knows, we might meet the big cheese tonight."

Another gust of icy, snow-filled wind attacked them. He put his head down to keep his face from it as best he could. Tess shrugged her shoulders and clutched his coat on herself, looking grateful he had let her have it. The cold wind lashed at their faces, the snowflakes hitting like needles. They finally reached the park, a large area normally full of green and trees, now mostly bare and barren, covered in snow. It was pretty large and surrounded by a handsome iron fence and low brick wall. There were a lot of trees, taller or shorter, some bare and others with leaves, all covered in a layer of snow, while a natural lake could be seen in the middle.

Tess smirked. "No Central Park, but it’s actually kinda cool to hang around when the weather's better."

Dante took in the rather good-looking site. "It's better than that grocery store," he chuckled.

His mind wasn't really on the park; he was looking the place over for any signs of demons. He could almost feel their presence and taste the blood of the ensuing fight…and then it suddenly hit him. He was looking forward to some carnage a little too enthusiastically.

 _This is what Roy was talking about,_ he thought. _Lose your temper and you lose your head._

He shook his head and brought his hand to his face for a second, composing himself. "Whoa. I should give that crazy familiar of yours more credit," he muttered.

"Yeah well, he _is_ a gazillion years old," Tess replied absently, checking the fence for an easy place to climb over since the gates were locked. "Why, what'd he tell you? He likes to go Yoda sometimes."

Dante didn't want to admit that Roy actually _had_ done so and sort of blew off the question. He jumped the short brick wall, climbed over the fence and dropped down into the park. The lake was dark and calm and a thin sheet of ice had begun forming over it.

Nothing unnatural and he huffed a bit. “So where do we start?”

Tess pulled back the sleeves of Dante's coat and climbed the brick wall, a little bit awkwardly because of the heavy clothing. "Starting from the lake and going around for a cursory look," she said as she jumped down. “It’s right in the middle so it’s a good starting point.”

“That’ll take ages!” Dante groaned. “Can’t you use your freaky radar thing to narrow the field?” His hair got messed up at that last gust and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed.

"Try telling that to it directly, because I sure as hell can’t,” she replied, frustrated. Before she could say something more, she looked at the lake and then turned to an old structure that stood next to it, the remains of an old cathedral. Only a crumbling wall with some arched windows and an arch door remained standing from the old building. She frowned, looking at it.

“What is that?” Dante asked her.

“Roy told me once that the cathedral that stood there burned down in a big fire. Well before the Second World War, I think,” she replied, backing up to him. “But something looks off.” She shivered suddenly. “I can almost feel it. It’s an awful, cold feeling…” she blurted.

Dante felt something too, but he wasn’t as affected. It was a chilling sensation that crept up their spines, a cold fear that tried to force its way into their hearts. Trying to keep the situation from getting tense, Dante gave her a sideways look. "Hey, I gave you my coat. I don't care how cold you are, I’m not stripping! We're supposed to be hunting demons, not getting me naked!" he chuckled, taking the lead toward the old ruin.

He didn't understand what got her so upset. Things looked a bit fishy, but she seemed to be downright nervous. And then the wind died down suddenly.

Tess forgot about the cold and the bad feeling and just glared at him. "Wh-what!? This is not normal cold, you dolt!" she snapped, stamping her foot down angrily but it looked kind of ridiculous with her arms in the trailing sleeves. "Who said I want to see you naked! I'm talking about cold that _hurts_ and you know what can do that? _Demons!_ " she called, following him with an angry pace. "You can't feel it because you are half-demon, but I sure as hell can!"

Dante spoke over his shoulder, amused. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Keep denying your undying love for me and your plots to get me naked."

He smirked as he pressed on. It was amazingly amusing to pick on her like that, even if he didn't know how she _really_ felt about him. Besides her occasional blushing, she never gave any signs to confirm such a thing, but she didn't show any signs to _particularly_ _deny it_ either. She was right about now though. Something definitely felt like it didn't belong. He just couldn't pin it down.

"I tell you, I feel like we're being watched!" Tess growled between her teeth and followed.

As they moved closer to the lake, a distant flapping sound suddenly got their attention, growing louder by the moment. Tess stopped and looked up. She let a gasp, rushed ahead and grabbed Dante's arm.

"Look!" she said, pointing to the sky.

Figures of red zipped about above them, diving down and flying over their heads with a deafening noise of shrieks, flaps and hurling wind, in one massive flock. The flying creatures were so many and so dense that they looked like one huge creature, with hundreds of mouths and claws.

Dante looked up as Tess blurted a sound of fright, seeing the creatures come in fast. He looked ahead and saw the dark red figures emerging from the ruins they had already zeroed on. As the swarm of red drew nearer, the true size of the flock became apparent.

Dante smirked. "Bloodgoyles!" he laughed and popped his knuckles. There were more of them than he’d ever seen. The amulet he wore awoke to a light pulse as the hellish birds drew closer and his excitement soared. He smiled in a twisted way and muttered "Let's rock!"

He detached himself from Tess, who still looked a little worried, but determined to hold her ground herself. As the flock swarmed overhead, Dante drew his handguns. He shot at them feverishly, the shots passing right through their bodies and blasting small holes in the masses of blood, spattering down on the snow-covered ground. A couple of Bloodgoyles came hurling down, weakened, and his sword flashed in his hands and cut the demons in halves as they came. He fired a couple more shots directly into the face of one approaching him from the side, then literally threw the sword in its face. The Bloodgoyle was knocked backwards, the sword impaled in its body and the stone demon crumbled to pieces.

Tess lagged behind a little and for a moment stared in disbelief at the sheer amount of them. She pulled back his coat's sleeves, in a rather determined fashion.

"So many of them…" she muttered then called to him. "Wait! Don't just shoot at them, it’s not—Dante, you're just making them come at us!"

She frowned as he ignored her. He was actually _trying_ to make them come at him. The mass of the Bloodgoyle flock swerved towards them, shrieking and snapping their bloody beaks, yellow eyes flashing with malice. Some headed straight for her. She stood her ground and threw her arm ahead, causing a 'wall' of fire to suddenly burst from the ground in front of her. As Bloodgoyles came in contact to it, foul-smelling steam was the result, with the distinct sound of liquid sizzling on a burning stone. Some of the creatures pulled back; smoke was coming off them as the blood burned, exposing their solid rock bodies. Some lost so much of their bloody cover that they reverted to stiff stone completely. That made them unable to move briefly, and they could just grind and groan, trying to part from the ground again.

Dante kept shooting the Bloodgoyles and taking advantage of the immobilization of the ones she'd gotten, he smashed them with a few easy swings of his sword. He smirked at the heat from her flame wall.

"Oh, but you're so cold to _me_!" he chuckled, grinning at the bitten-off cuss she fired back at him.

Three Bloodgoyles broke off from the main group and went directly for Dante, shrieking. The one at the forefront of the attack dove straight for him and when it came within reach, he took a single step forward, pointing Ebony ahead and shot the crimson flier square in the forehead. The Bloodgoyle was knocked back and turned to stone, struggling to move. The other two passed by him, shrieking and broke off their attack, making for a second round.

"Tess, go for their heads!" he called to the witch, while smashing the stone with his sword.

She kept repelling the Bloodgoyles with fire. She had to create a new wall after every attack that came from another angle. Whenever they touched the fire, sizzling sounds indicated that blood was burnt off. It was hard for her to maintain the fires without a fuel source. They just hovered and kept burning out of her seer will. The snow under them was melting and turning to water and slush, mixed with the soil underneath making the ground muddy.

"I know!" she snapped. "Taking the blood off exposes them! But there’s just so many!" She caused a petrified Bloodgoyle to erupt into pieces with an explosive burst of fire.

Pulling back at the coat's sleeves yet again, she aimed for an incoming fleet and jerking her arms as if she was hurling something at them, two arches of flames manifested in the air and collided into them, hitting several at the same time, knocking the rest out of a formation and into one another. The Bloodgoyles just seemed all the more angered at the two and flocked together more densely to attack them.

With his senses now on high alert, Dante suddenly felt uneasy. Tess’ earlier warnings that they were being watched came to mind. He started to feel pinpricks along his spine. The mass of Bloodgoyles was throwing him off, but he felt that _something else_ was there too. He could feel it in the unnatural cold that was getting stronger and was chilling him.

Dante dove to his right, dodging a demon, did a barrel roll and came to a stop on his knee. He shot another Bloodgoyle and twirling his sword up, brought it tip-first down into the petrified creature just as it hit the ground. Then he darted at another one that Tess turned to stone and forced the blade through it. Shards the hell bird shot in all directions. Two more came at him; one flew faster than the other and Dante aimed and fired. He made a direct hit to the head, then side-stepped to avoid the demon flying into him. Its speed on impact with the ground crushed the stone. Again, he aimed and fired at the last bird attacking him. Bullets peppered the creature and blood went flying off it, exposing the stone beneath. As it barreled at him, Dante took up his sword and thrust it through the stone, saving himself from being taken out by a very heavy stone statue. The debris flew around him, hitting the ground.

He had a pretty savage smile when he jogged over to Tess, who had been taking out more of the demons than he had, because more of them were attacking her than him. It was as if they sensed she was the weaker of the two. With the flame wall, he expected her to have fewer problems, but the truth of the matter was that the most she could do was get them to back off or just petrify them. She didn't always have enough time to make the fire shatter them, because others attacked her again and she had to turn her attention to them, besides sustaining those walls up.

"Doing alright?" Dante called over the roar of the fire.

"No, I'm not!" Tess panted. "There's hundreds of them! I don't even know if we're doing real damage!"

He noticed that her fires were getting substantially weaker, probably because she was getting tired.

"And I can't help this feeling that there's something bigger around! These stupid things are just… _playing_ with us!" she added, hurling another arch of fire towards a cheeky Bloodgoyle.

Dante cringed, because he felt she was right, _again._ He had been feeling his amulet reacting for a while now. Something indeed was around, but where? His focus stayed clear though and he shattered the petrified Bloodgoyles she couldn't keep up with, while she hurled fire at them, to burn the blood off. He had to admit that for a rookie, she held up her own pretty well and for the least, she had guts and determination.

"Keep it up!" he called to her, when he saw her beginning to falter a little.

He moved around the wall she had created to get covered and catch his breath and chuckled at all the stone piled up around them. As he moved out of the wall's protection again, a Bloodgoyle moved in to attack him. His gaze on the rest of the Bloodgoyle pack retreating for a new charge, Dante didn't notice it immediately. He hardly knew what had hit him when the hellish bird collided onto him, plunging its claws into his back. Right after he felt like being lifted off the ground and struggled as it lifted him off the ground, its talons jammed into his back. He even dropped his sword from the sudden shock. It hit the melting snow near Tess, making her look up.

Dante struggled as the Bloodgoyle climbed to a dangerously high altitude while trying to tear him up with its beak. He jammed his hand against its head, pushing its beak away as much as he could and pulled Ivory, stretching his arm as much as he could and shot the bird in the head repeatedly. An ear-piercing shriek later, the bird turned to stone and the two were left plummeting toward the ground. Dante realized his mistake all too late: He'd turned the bird to stone while it still had its talons jammed in a grip on him, and now he had no way of breaking free. He couldn’t even reach behind his back!

Tess watched the whole thing with wide eyes and her mouth slightly gaping. Seeing he couldn't get out of the Bloodgoyle's grip she panicked, and did the only thing that occurred to her: She sent a bolt of fire to hit the petrified bird. As soon as she did so though, she realized the danger of it hurting Dante and not knowing what else to do, she made a desperate plea in her head.

 _Don't burn him! Don't burn him!_ she thought, frantically praying the fire wouldn't hurt Dante, but not knowing if it would obey her or not.

The bolt hit the side of the statue, shattering it to pieces and sending bits flying about and hitting other Bloodgoyles that were flying too closele, trying to attack the trapped teenager.

Meanwhile, other Bloodgoyles took advantage of Tess' distraction and attacked her again. She ducked to avoid a dive-bombing demon and sent a small torrent of fire to another, trying to drive it back but it only swerved, striking her raised arm that was protecting her face with its wing and knocking her on her back. She shouted, tumbled on the snow from the momentum and a streak of blood flew from a cut on her arm.

Dante had shut his eyes just before Tess' fire bolt shattered the statue and released him. He was glad he wasn't going to be squished but without time to turn over he was still falling faster and faster until he landed with a loud thud. A mere few feet away from Tess, right as she got up on her feet again, Dante collided with the frozen ground, sending up a cloud of powder snow that gently fell to the ground again. His sudden contact with the frozen ground was forceful and hard and he landed back-first.

Tess let a small scream of fright when he hit the ground like a stone. She wanted to dart over to him but the Bloodgoyles were still circling her persistently and attacking her.

 _Oh my God. Is he still alive? Could he survive that kind of fall? Please don't be dead! Please don't be!_ she thought, but her throat was too dry to even attempt to say something.

“Dammit! Get away from me you flying freaks!” she blurted, creating a sweeping wave of fire that chased them away for just a few moments and gave her an opening to move towards him.

She was glad to see Dante groan and move. He was alive still but in a pretty bad shape. He heaved himself up to his elbow and fired several rounds from his handgun into the face of a Bloodgoyle that dared to fly too low to check him out. It flew backwards, turning to stone. A couple more shots blew its head cleanly off. He heaved himself up again, hollow cracking sounds coming from his limbs and she cringed. Holding his ribs, he slowly walked with a slight limp towards her as she came to meet him, putting up walls of fire to fend the Bloodgoyles off. He shot down another one, before holstering the gun and bending with a grunt to pick up his dropped sword and with an abrupt move, bring it down on the petrified demon twice and smash it to pieces.

"Tess!" he blurted in a rather drone-like voice as he shook his head to get out of his daze.

Tess frowned in concern and fear. She was surprised, scared and relieved all together to see him alive. She was getting very tired and the walls of fire she was creating between her and the Bloodgoyles were starting to weaken. She got close to him and sent smaller bolts to the demons that still circled them.

"Dante! Are you okay?" she asked him, grabbing his arm to keep him from charging back into the fray.

 _I can't believe he survived that!_ she thought. _But man, am I glad he did! I wouldn't want to be left alone with these things!_

Dante shook his head and as she got closer, she saw blood oozing from his mouth as he breathed. He spat and the crimson mess painted a red spot in the snow. He took a deep breath and pushed the air in his lungs out, but at the same time, kept it from escaping. She heard a sound like rock grinding against rock coming from his chest and grew pale, giving him a pained look when he coughed up another glob of blood.

Another crimson flier made its way for them and as it shrieked, he noticed it. Drawing Ebony and pushing Tess aside with his other hand, he turned to the side and opened fire. He hit the head and the demon turned to stone before making it to him. It hit the ground hard, a piece of it breaking off. Dante swung his sword at the rest of it, hacking off bits where it struck. Tess almost bumped her back on his as she fended off Bloodgoyles coming from the other side.

Although she’d started confident, the size of the situation was now terrifying her. "Just too many of them—"she panted. "Dante, we can’t take them! We need to get out of here!"

Before either could say anything further, a strong gust of piercing cold wind blew past them, chilling them both and making the Bloodgoyles pull back, shrieking in indignation. The old ruin shook a little from the heavy flapping of something big that descended from over its walls and landed heavily. The demon stood before an arch of the old ruins, giving them a good idea of the sheer scale of this beast.

It was tall, lean, shaped roughly like a lizard standing upright with a sort of distorted, stretched physique, massive leathery wings and a long tail like a whip. Its human-like head was small compared to the rest of the body and had impressive horns, a pair jutting straight up with a single jag and another pair curving out and to the side from its face. He stretched his wings and bitter cold came flowing from them, freezing the night.

Its body blended with the aged rock surrounding them but for the solid white, glowing eyes, hard as steel. The ground it touched froze over instantly, crackling as ice formed.

It shuffled its massive, leathery wings and its breath froze and hung in the air. Frost came off its skin as it stood the ground on lanky legs staring at the two teenagers with his dead, blank gaze for a long moment, during which they stared back in awe and fright. Then it snarled softly, suddenly flapping his wings and rising up into the air. Massive icicles formed around him and with flicks of the hand he hurled them in their direction, while the Bloodgoyles circled the greater demon and prepared for another attack.

Dante was left staring at the huge, glorious demon with eyes peeled wide, his face a mask of disbelief. Fear cracked his earlier determination. He felt the amulet pounding against his chest like his heartbeat. Tess gapped terror at the demon and started shaking. He weighed the situation: he was injured, exhausted and too shaken to think of taking this thing on and having Tess with him didn't help, he'd be too distracted looking after her to concentrate on fighting. In a very stern and rather frightened tone, he said something he never thought he’d say when confronted with a demon:

"And now we have to run."

She didn’t even argue, they both just turned and bolted as fast as they could, Dante holding his ribs and sheathing his sword in a hurry. He pushed her ahead of him and followed. She ran ahead and they both started frantically going in zigzags to avoid the icicles hurled at them by the demon. She even briefly outran him and leaped over an icicle that landed ahead of her. For one thing, she was lighter on her feet than he was. He had no idea where they were heading and followed her, praying they could find a way out—but how far could they run?

The icicles pelted at them were like shards and one was accurate enough to lodge itself through Dante's calf. The slayer fell to his knees with a shout but recovered quickly. Tess came to an abrupt stop when he fell and turned back to help him stand up. She kept holding his hand tightly as they ran again. His limp slowed him down but he gritted his teeth and shouted at her to move. Bloodgoyle shrieks filled the air and they still had no way of escape.

"This way!" she shouted suddenly and pulled him through a cluster of leafless trees, following a path strewn with snow.

The Bloodgoyles frantically flew after them, some smacking into the branches and getting tangled and others flew over the trees entirely. Icicles hit the ground still, some impaling trees with loud thudding noises. Tess half-turned and sent a small bolt of fire to hit a Bloodgoyle that got too close and it reeled back in a hurry. As they broke through the trees, Dante saw a church with a couple of old gravestones sticking up through the snow. It looked quite deserted but in better condition than the ruins they'd seen earlier.

"There!" she said, urging him on.

Dante, still dazed and with a shard of ice still impaled in his leg, had no say in the matter of direction and was forced to follow. _What am I gonna do to object, anyway, bleed on her?_

The ice shard in his leg hurt and his limp caught up to him again, making him wince and almost tear up. He hadn’t hurt this much in years! She pulled him through the graves and he eyed up the church she was heading for.

 _What's she thinking?!_ he groaned. "You know, it doesn't matter if it's a house of God, it's just a man-made building and if that thing wants to, it'll just _plow_ right through it!"

She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were wild from fright and determination together and her hair had pulled free and flying madly in the wind and snow like a red torrent.

"Will you shut it for once and just _trust me_?" she shouted at him.

As they covered the last few yards with the Bloodgoyles hot on their tail, Tess stretched her arm ahead, opening her fingers in a wide and commanding gesture and frantically called at the doors, as if they'd obey her. "Open, _open_!"

Miraculously, or in Tess' case, magically, the twin heavy wooden doors slammed open with a thud and waited for them as they bound up the stone steps. A set of different shrieks started to echo, but these didn't belong to Bloodgoyles. They were deeper, low pitched and more like throaty calls, as if they were coming from the bottom of a well. They seemed to come from the top of the church.

As Dante looked up, he could see the stone gargoyles that decorated the ledges and columns of the church were moving slightly, their gaping mouths screaming and snarling in anger and they shuffled in place as if they were alive. His eyes widened in surprise. He could actually see the stone creatures, hunched reptilians, grotesque imps and snub-faced, four-legged creatures with craggy faces and gaping mouths animate themselves and begin to scream, snarl and shriek.

The Bloodgoyles' reaction to the cries of the gargoyles was impressive: They shrieked in confusion and stopped abruptly, even bumping into one another and pulling back in haste as if they wanted to avoid the screams of the gargoyles at all costs. The icicles even stopped coming and the greater demon seemed to hesitate then jerked his head and raised his horrible hands to it, obviously irritated. The bell of the church suddenly rang in a slow, ominous pace. The Bloodgoyles were driven back even further and the demon let a deep growl of irritation and pulled back too. And yet they kept circling the church, even though they were held at bay for now.

Once they rushed inside the church, Dante felt impressed at this display of near-miraculous protection. Before he could breathe out though, a chill ran down his spine. An unexplained, if mild, terror overtook him and he felt flighty, like he needed to leave this place. He tried to compose himself, but he ended up getting even more confused. He couldn't understand what was giving him that claustrophobic sensation. The shrieks of the gargoyles pounded in his ears even more than the cries of the Bloodgoyles had. He looked up at the vaulted roof of the church and saw more gargoyles in the inside of the church. They too were animating themselves and began to scream. At him.

"H-hey…what's this shit?" he said, and was surprised to hear his voice crack.

Tess had shoved him inside and was hurriedly shutting the heavy doors behind them.

"They're gargoyles; they're common in older churches. They’re powerful guardians that don’t have anything to do with the church’s religion necessarily. Their shrieks drive demons away. Humans can't hear them or see them for what they really are. Don’t underestimate them, they’ll keep us safe for a while…I think,” she said, trying to be heard above the shrieks and the still ringing bell. "And the bell—it’s a guardian too. They're still outside, but they won't touch the building, _for now_."

The gargoyles that decorated the interior began to move more intently, actually turning their heads to glare at Dante and shuffled in their positions and their stone figures crackled and crumbled a little as they screamed at him. They were actually giving him a very unpleasant feeling.

Dante, confused by this sudden terror, gulped and backed up into the doors. "Newsflash, Twig, _I'm_ half-demon," he groaned.

That feeling was overwhelming him. It was just so impossibly bad; he suddenly felt seasick, dizzy and disoriented. These gargoyles' screams were getting to him, making him feel ill.

Tess looked at him, realization dawning on her. She blurted a small curse and then turned around, quickly walked further into the church and looked up at the gargoyles. Dante actually gaped at what she did next.

"Listen here, pipsqueaks!" she called shaking her fist at the gargoyles. Some of them actually stopped screaming and stared down at her. "I know you're meant to safeguard this place but you're dumb as the rock you're made of! Quit yelling at _him_!" she said, pointing at Dante. "I know he smells funny but he's alright! You want to yell at someone, yell at me! I'm a _witch_ and I've set my dirty feet," she said mockingly, pointing to her shoes, "in the house of God but I don't hear you whining! So I'm gonna say it one last time… _SHUT_! _UP_!" she shouted louder, stamping her foot down as well.

If he wasn't so confused and rattled up, Dante might have doubled over laughing with her look. She was glaring, her long hair wild from running and the wind that it stuck up and around her head in gnarls. Bits of snow and twigs were caught in it, and in his over-sized trench-coat she actually looked like a mad, shrewish witch in red that had stepped out of a folk story.

Oh, the irony.

But the gargoyles inside the church responded and grew silent, shuffling back into stillness, turning their gaze away from both and resumed their inanimate forms. The ones outside kept driving the demons away, without disturbing the half-demon within. They must’ve been so startled by her rant that they obeyed.

Tess breathed out in pants, looking around at the now silent gargoyles and then let a tiny sigh and turned back around to him, to see him staring in slight disbelief.

She shrugged and held out her arms in a gesture of discontent. "Sometimes you have to be rough with the little dipshits," she said.

Dante still felt a little dazed but that uneasy feeling subsided and he composed himself. He muttered a word of thanks under his breath and limped further inside the church, taking in the surroundings. He could actually see some of the Bloodgoyles outside, in the distance, through the windows. He could also see a nasty snowstorm that had built up and was now pounding the silent and rather dark church. No doubt the demon was behind that snowstorm. Dante could hear shingles from the church’s roof being torn off and chunks of ice hitting its walls and windows. He could also hear the demon growling and breathing angrily outside. It sounded pissed.

Tess walked over closer to the front and with tired flicks of the hand she made a couple of half-melted candles light up and then finally collapsed on the steps leading to the altar, sitting down and exhausted. She ran her hands over her face.

"Did you see that thing outside there? It scared the life out of me," she uttered, hanging her head. "I think he’s been behind all this awful feeling I’ve had, and the weather."

Dante repeated "Outside…" in an airy, drone-like voice. He came round suddenly and replied: "Yeah. Told you we'd meet the big cheese tonight. I just didn't think it'd be so huge," he grumbled.

He paced back and forth, slightly straying from his original back-and-forth track. He thought hard, while checking every corner and trying to figure out a way to flee or counter attack without getting killed by that thing.

"I don't know," Tess started, pulling twigs out of her hair. "That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a demon like this and…and--"

She suddenly stopped, trailed off and seemed to blank out, as if a memory kicked in. Her arm stood still as well. Dante stopped and looked at her. Her hand dropped on her thigh idly and her face froze. He knew that look; this wasn't the first time. She frowned and her eyebrows almost came together as she brought her hands up and pressed the balls of her clenched hands against her forehead.

"No…no, I don't. Don't need to go there now," he heard her mutter shakily.

Dante winced. She looked so scared suddenly. He sat beside her, grunting as he slouched, breathed out and tried to take out the ice shard from his leg. It had frozen there and it hurt to tug it. He couldn't help noticing her look though. He'd never seen her that anguished and pained before. He decided that a direct approach would be best.

"So it's _not_ the first time, is it?" he asked dryly.

His curiosity was only surpassed by his bluntness. The church was cold and rocky, kind of abandoned, but somehow it felt safe still. But he suddenly found himself worried about her. The way she talked surprised him further. It was a bit…lifeless and quiet, like whatever memory she had recalled sucked the life out of her.

"No. When I was little…they came again. I don't remember too much. I try not to," she started, tugging at some of her hair in a mechanical fashion. "I was…I was small. We lived in the outskirts; I remember the rain. It rained the night they came."

"What happened?"

She paused and stiffened again, but this time it was a lifeless hesitation. "I woke up, from the screams. Mom burst in my room, her hair was such a mess. She dragged me out of bed, said I had to hide." She put her hand up and nervously fiddled with a silver cross that always hung on her neck.

 _Huh, makes sense. When you cross demons they always come back for you. That's what her old man did,_ Dante thought. _He crossed them and they went back for him._

Tess meanwhile continued her rambling. She was probably frightened from the whole ordeal and it was only now showing through her earlier composure. He thought she might’ve been telling him this a little too easily, but knowing her, Dante felt it might’ve been entirely possible she had never opened up to anybody else about what happened to her. He could easily imagine Roy trying to coax her to talk to him and not always succeeding. And yet here she was, talking to him. Maybe he caught her off guard, or his dry manner had something mildly comforting to it, or she just took comfort from the knowledge that he knew what it felt like.

"Then I—I heard dad shout. _They’re coming_. Dad had a workshop in the back of the house; he made things, like—like jewelry.”Her voice trembled. “There was a hatch in the floor, he stored things he worked with there. Mom hid me there. I hated the dark in there and I hated the dust. She told me to hide. And she told me to run."

Her eyes seem to drain of any emotion beside regret. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were wide, scared, like a deer caught in headlights. She stared ahead of her blankly.

"She said _'You have to run, whatever happens you have to run'._ She left me there; I hated that hole and I started crawling along the ground under the floorboards to escape. I was so small that I just…fit through every nook. I heard what happened. They told my father to go back to them; that Hell was where he belonged. Dad knew they were going to kill mom anyway because she was in the way. They said he could save me because—because I could be like him,” she said and shivered. “Dad—Dad refused, said he would die than let me end up serving demons. I could see through the floorboards… He fought but they killed him…”

Her voice got shakier as she carried on. “Dad's blood dripped through the boards. I knew he was dead. Then mom—I heard her screams. Oh God, her screams…” she paused and gulped. “Then…those _things_ , they searched," she mumbled, shuddering at the memory. "I could feel their footsteps all over me through the floor…and –and--"

Here she paused again and took a shaky breath. "One of them found me, broke through the floor and pulled me out like a rat," she said with a pained look. "But the scary thing is…I can't remember what happened then. Just…just--" She had to stop entirely to compose herself and was already shaking. "I can't remember a thing after that," she said with a slightly panicked tone, as if the lack of memory scared her.

Dante just stared at the floor while listening and for a rare time in his life, he didn’t mind listening to someone going on like that.

 _How alike can we be, Twig?_ He thought.

He suddenly draped his arm over her shoulder softly. "Hey, it's alright now," he said in an almost soothing manner. "You and me, we're a lot alike. Sure, you may be a little uptight, but you're okay. Not everyone gets through demon attacks like you did. You got guts, gotta give you that. And now you got me around. Sucks to admit it, but you're stronger than everyone thinks you are."

Tess looked up and stared at him in surprise, probably uncertain that he was being so casual. His tone hadn't been insensitive, just very realistic. He wasn't entirely without sympathy, but he wanted to shake her out of the miserable state she'd gotten into now.

"I mean, it's past. What matters is what's going on now. Sulking about your parents' death won't help us out of this mess, so let's save it for our spare time, alright?"

Dante finally pulled the ice shard out of his leg with a very squishy sound, blood pouring from the wound.

 _Come on Twig, don't you give me that soppy crap. I know how you feel. But it just doesn't suit you. I like you better when you're a hissy little wildcat,_ he thought.

Tess seemed affected that someone was, for once, giving her credit, but she winced and shrugged when she saw him pull the icicle out of his leg, and started scolding him, as if she had suddenly snapped back to her old self. "Ugh! Would you mind not doing that while I'm looking? You _know_ it's disgusting, right?" she said, somewhat angrily, and got up. Taking it off, she held out his coat to him. "Put it back on, you're going to need it more than me."

Dante took his coat back, replying: "Then don't look!"

He threw his coat on, enjoying the wooshing sound it made and replaced his sword on his back over the coat. "Hope you got some plan about getting out of here, Twig, otherwise we’re boned.”

Tess frowned at the name. “I can’t decide whether I like you or whether I want you to eat shit and die,” she sighed.

Before Dante could issue a witty and amused retort, a tremor shook the church, making them back up against each other from surprise. Then, a loud sound came from outside, like a mix of cracking thunder and an animal's roar and the ground shook again for a brief moment. The gargoyles silenced all together at once. Both teens stared at each other for a moment, then at the doors. Dante reached for his guns. Then there was an eerie, long silence. A scream was suddenly heard, followed by the sound of something flapping away hurriedly, and again silence.

The next moment, the doors of the church unbolted by themselves and one of them opened, making Dante point both his guns at it. But he lowered the immediately when Roy's figure appeared there, panting, and looking like he'd run a mile or gotten into a fight of sorts. His wrinkled face was contorted, while his hair was all messed up.

"Why are you two out here? Come on, now, we're going back home. _Now_!" he said loudly. He didn't shout, but had a very commanding tone to his voice that warned the two to not even dare to argue or object.

Dante smiled widely despite Roy's tone and was pretty eager to obey the familiar's command. In fact, he was downright glad to see him. His leg hadn't healed yet, for some reason; blood still trickled from the wound and he left a trail of it behind him as he half-limped ahead with Tess in tow. "Holy shit, am I glad to see you, Roy!" he blurted.

Roy raised an eyebrow at the blood coming from his leg, then on Tess' startled look and the cut in her arm.

"Yes, I can see that. Come on, move it; I don't feel like sticking around this cold for long," he said, gruffly, but his look and the way he placed a hand on Dante's shoulder showed how relieved he was to find them both safe.

Tess looked a little hesitant and regretful as she followed. "Roy…" she started, awkwardly.

"Not a word Tess, and just be happy I won't tell a thing to Magda, or she'll have you both _hanged_. Home, now," Roy interrupted her, quite politely.

She was too tired to retort and just let Roy pretty much usher her out of the park and back to the building. Dante just followed closely behind Tess, in minor disbelief that Roy had come to the rescue. He raised an eyebrow at the smashed open park gate and the scene around the church, which looked almost like some bulldozer had rammed through part of the snow-covered ground. It couldn’t have been the work of the demons and they were nowhere to be seen. He gulped awkwardly; just how strong was Roy after all?

Dante felt better as they moved away from the church, the gargoyles silent for a while now. His sense of vertigo left completely and he made a mental note that whatever was animating those gargoyles was some pretty potent protective power. The cold air had never made him feel more alive and grateful to be so. His wound hurt, but was not intolerable and the fall he took was almost forgotten. He hoped that by the time they were back at the building, it would have gone completely and he would be ready to return to the park to pick a proper fight with that massive demon.

He was left wondering though, whether Roy would punish them somehow. He didn't know about Tess, but he was prepared for the worst.


	7. Recess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Dante begins a long tradition of being an ass to girls and gets justly punished for once.

None of them said a word for the entirety of the way back to the boarding house, until Roy opened the door and let them in, looking like he was really angry and disappointed at both of them. He let them into the lobby and shut the door behind him, then locked it.

"Tess, go to your room," he told the girl sharply. "Magda may not hear of this, but _I'm_ still grounding you."

Tess looked shocked; her cheeks went rosy with embarrassment from being ordered like a child, and she tried to raise a protest. "What!? I'm sixteen, you can't _ground_ me!" she said.

Roy was unmoved. He glared at her angrily. "Oh, yes I can and I will. Room. _Now,_ " he barked at her. “Keep arguing and I’ll make it worse.”

Dante's faint smile faded as he watched Tess get a good scolding and going with it. Roy was really pissed and from the look on Tess’ face, Dante could tell that crossing him right now was not just ill-advised but actually rather _stupid_. He had a very angry and serious flare in his eyes, narrowing them and clenching his jaw as if barely holding back a bout of shouting and cursing. Whenever Roy would look at him, Dante got the impression that Roy wanted to smack him.

Tess hissed a small complaint at Roy and stomped past Dante up the stairs. For all her stubbornness and snappy attitude, she really did seem to respect and maybe even fear Roy's wrath. And perhaps there was a little tough love there, too.

After he sent her upstairs, Roy turned to Dante with a similarly strict look. "You. With me. Now," he said sharply, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen door. "Don't even think of protesting or arguing, unless you'd like your head mounded on my wall. Kitchen, _now_."

Dante gulped uneasily at the gruff familiar’s tone and practically _got bullied_ into the kitchen. He edged away from Roy and leaned against the counter near the microwave, watching Roy and waiting for his rage—he knew one was coming for him, and he was preparing to counter, any means needed, even a fight. After seeing what he suspected to be Roy's doing in the park though, he wasn't so sure he’d come out on top. For one thing, Roy knew how to hide his real face pretty darn good.

But Roy didn't start shouting. He pushed a chair in front of Dante. "Put your leg up on the chair. Let me see that wound," he bellowed, shuffling through the cupboards for something.

Roy's assertiveness let Dante know that he was very upset. But it was hard to tell whether it was about his leg or about what he and Tess had gotten into. He obeyed Roy with a puzzled reluctance.

 _He's not hacking my head off? Huh, I thought he was gonna kill me after this one,_ he thought to himself.

Instead, Roy was grumbling and scowling as he retrieved a jar with some off-white powder in it. He yanked up Dante's pants-leg off the wound, disregarding Dante’s yelp of startled pain and inspected the half-closing hole on the boy’s lower leg. The shard had punctured the muscle from the calf to the front cleanly through, but the bone was largely untouched. It hadn't healed right away and Roy gruffly explained it was probably because the freezing power of the demon’s ice was enough to override Dante's stamina and healing capabilities. The frozen flesh around the gaping wound was sort of blue, bruised and looked a little shriveled.

"You two are more stupid together than you seem to be individually. Just what in God's name made you two think you could go fight _Chernobog_?" the familiar snarled, pouring warm water from the kitchen sink onto a towel and wiping the wound clean of blood, bits of mud and ice, surprisingly gently.

"Chern-the-what?" Dante echoed, flabbergasted.

"Chernobog," Roy repeated slowly. "He's a demon of lesser duke rank, he rules over ice, darkness and cold. He manipulates hailstorms, snowstorms…perils of the traveler, so to say. He's bad news. I thought he was down and out for good, but alas…" he explained, coolly.

"Lesser duke demon—what, _he's_ responsible for all this mess?" Dante asked, intrigued and ignoring the soreness of his leg.

He was actually quite surprised at how gently Roy was treating him, considering how he probably felt like decking him instead.

Roy pulled back his shirt's sleeve and carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out a sharp shard of stone that had wedged in the wound from a fall the boy had taken during battle. "Not sure. But he's been stalking around for some time; I knew he'd rear his ugly head sooner or later."

"Wha—you _knew_ this guy was on the prowl!" Dante exclaimed. "You knew—and you're not doing anything!?"

"Shut up, I _have_ done something," Roy replied sharply. "Why do you think we're safe in here? Magda and I have set up a powerful protection on the building. And like it or not, I’m not cozy with the idea of facing Chernobog directly. I've got my share of power but I'm not exactly getting younger!"

"But back at the park you just--"

"Surprised him and scared him off, that's what!" the djinn growled. "Listen to me, Dante, just because I can doesn't mean I like nose-diving into trouble for the hell of it! You might think it’s effortless but fighting something like Chernobog is not a walk in the park—and I've got more important things to do than proving myself. I'm old enough to have known what I can do for a long time. Unlike you—just what were you thinking!?"

Dante got confused for a moment before retorting: "We didn't know _Chern-the-butter_ was gonna be there, or whatever his name is. We were just looking into all those Bloodgoyles; thought we'd slap some hellbirds around."

Roy snorted. " _Looking into!_ Oh yes, that's smart," he said, as he abruptly poured some of that odd powder he retrieved over the wound.

It fizzed and smoked a little when it hit the skin, causing Dante a little pain and making him gasp and swear, but when Roy slapped another wet towel over it, the pain was already gone and the wound healed almost immediately.

"Look at me, kiddo, you might be half-demon, but like it or not, you're still a _kid_. So is she. You are not ready to face that thing," Roy said, poking Dante's chest with his index finger. “At least not with that attitude of _stupid_ that you’re totting.”

Roy tried to hide it but Dante thought the old man seemed relieved that they had avoided such a face-off.

"Well, we would probably back off if someone else were to take charge of this! Kids or not at least we're doing _something!_ " he grumbled.

Of course he was lying, just wanting to get the old man to stop his complaining. Even if someone else would be willing to take over, Dante was not going to allow himself to get ordered around. He wanted to get involved and something told him that Tess would rather die than allow herself to sit it out either.

Roy chuckled "You, back out? I doubt that," he said, shaking his head. "I still maintain it's dumb to just dive into situations and it's even dumber to always assume that things are what appear to be."

"How the hell are we supposed to know unless we check things out?" He didn't mean to sound frustrated and offensive, but for a pissed old man, Roy sure was getting annoying. _What the hell is_ _his problem!?_ Dante thought.

"Then you should go prepared to face such an occasion!" Roy replied, looking angry again. "And that's especially when you've got someone who is not as invulnerable as you," he added pointedly.

Dante now felt offended. " _I_ got the shit kicked out of me and _I_ was bleeding all over the place! She hardly took a scratch! She just got _TIRED_!" he almost shouted. The old man had implied that he hadn't been _protecting_ the Twig properly! "You and the old lady are a lot alike in your view of the Twig, she's stronger than you both think she is! I mean, fuck man, if we didn't get killed it's because _she_ got us to that church."

 _Whoa, did I just admit that? Hell no, wasn't just her--_ he thought to himself, after mentally kicking himself for blurting that out.

Yet Roy snarled at him suddenly like a big cat, making Dante jump, startled. "Don't you raise your voice at me, _pup_! I don't care how strong you think she is. I don't want her going face to face with such a major demon. She doesn't have the capacity to survive something like that…yet. And I sure as hell won't be around forever to save your butts."

Dante blinked a bit. Roy sounded genuinely worried. And not just about Tess. Dante could tell from his countenance and his anger that he was concerned about him too. Nobody had worried about or even bothered themselves with him in a long time so he’d almost forgotten what that was like. He could read it in Roy’s manner: Son of Sparda or not, he _was_ nothing more than a teenager and a pretty thoughtless one too, by the familiar's standards.

“I see potential in you, dammit,” Roy grunted. “And for what it’s worth, I quite like you, son. But you’re so stupid!”

Dante looked away from the familiar, frustrated that his point was beaten to the ground and a bit embarrassed that he was nearly insulting Roy’s kindness. He muttered more to himself than to Roy. "But you can’t protect her forever..."

"I know that, num-nut," Roy groaned.

Dante looked up at him. Roy suddenly looked really tired and old as he sat heavily on a chair. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Tess…she’s just like her mother. She's got spirit, she's got guts and she's twice as smart. But dammit, she can't even do half what her mother did when she was sixteen,” he groaned.

Roy rubbed his forehead with his forefingers. “Wiccans' powers develop with age. You know why Magda sneers her so much? Tess' witchcraft is cranky, that's why! I don't know if it’s because of her father, or because Madga's made her feel like garbage all this time. She _knows_ her stuff, but she can't pull it off," he rambled. "She shouldn't be getting tired form fighting off some Bloodgoyles, but you saw it yourself. She puts all her stamina into a fight that you probably didn't even break a sweat for. If she's that unable to protect herself even against something small, what'll she do against demons like Chernobog? That's what I'm scared of, get it?"

Dante looked away, uneasy and awkward, but understanding. "Yeah, I do."

"Good" Roy groaned. "But…for pity’s sake, you two were lucky. If things were otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to get you out of that mess."

Dante snapped back towards Roy, his interest piqued again. "Why?"

"Because Chernobog has changed since I met him a good couple of centuries ago. I can only imagine one reason why a greater demon, worshiped as a god of ice and darkness, would have gotten weaker," Roy replied, trailing off some.

Dante looked at the old man, almost anxiously waiting for him to finish. After a moment's silence, he asked "You gonna finish that thought?"

Roy seemed to snap back to reality. "He's not alone. I know that much, he's someone’s pawn. Who or what, I don't know. But whatever it is, it's been wise enough to dope him down enough. Knowing him, only weakening his powers would keep him from rebelling. It doesn't make him any less dangerous though. He's just as cunning and deadly."

"What kinda demon can control something like Chern-the-butter?" Dante asked.

His curiosity was surpassed only by his confusion of priorities and he came to realize that after his question. He shouldn't be here chatting. He looked forward to go upstairs to reload, rest and get ready to go back after that thing. Roy had said that he was 'doped down'. Dante felt confident enough that he could take it out if he tried.

Roy got up and was replacing the jar containing the powder back in the cupboard as he replied: "I don't know. I could name you a few that have the potential, one worse than the other. Whoever or whatever it is, it's doing a good job of keeping its tracks covered. I haven't figured out yet what it could be and trust me, I’ve been looking."

He turned back around. "And don't you think that you're the only one who wants to do something about it. Magda isn't letting Tess know, but she's concerned. She's scared too. Wiccans can only do so much about demons. Magda's too scared to interfere in this, although she _should._ That's why she won't let Tess get messed into this. You…look, let's be honest son, you don't stand much of a chance as you are. It doesn't matter if you're Sparda's son. You're still a kid. You haven't got the experience or the power yet. You want some advice, _tread carefully_. Don't just nosedive into trouble blindly. Knowing is half the victory."

Yet Dante was still feeling awfully confident and nodded. "And now I know."

With that, he got up from his leaning post and headed for the door in a worn-out manner; his wounds were completely healed already. Just before leaving Roy, he stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. "Hey Roy…one last thing" he said. "Tess said she doesn't remember what happened the night her parents were killed. It sounded weird, so what _did_ happen?"

Roy seemed surprised and his eyebrows bowed up. "Hmm? What, she _told_ you about that day?"

Dante nodded.

Roy's brows bowed up more and he tilt his head sideways, looking surprised. " _Hmph_. Well that's new. What'd you say to her? She never talks about that, not even to me. I had to force it out of her when she was a kid and she never wants to talk about it since. Funny she told _you,"_ Roy said, scratching his head a little.

"Doesn't matter. What _did_ happen? How'd she make it after the demons caught her? Did you show up, or something?"

"Who, me? _"_ he snorted, annoyed "No. I…I was nowhere near when it happened and I got there too late. I couldn't do a thing to save either of them poor souls," the djinn replied, looking away in shame and shaking his head regretfully. "I let poor Sophie down, but I'd promised her to look after her mother after she married Eric. She'd sent me to Magda to look after her."

Dante blinked. "Then how…?"

"Hell if I know for certain, Dante" Roy interrupted. "When I got to the house, it was burned to cinders. Wasn't a big place anyway but it must've been one hell of a fire to reduce all that to ashes. The walls were barely standing when I got there and everything was still smoking. I found half a dozen sand demons. They were dead, their sand bodies had _turned to glass_ and their scythes had melted," he said with an awkward, cracked chuckle. "It'd take tremendous heat to do that."

"What about Tess?"

"I found her lying in a heap of ashes, covered in soot from head to toe and she had more burns than I can remember."

"What, you think Tess started a fire that burned down a mob of demons? When she was a toddler?" Dante asked, mildly amazed.

"I'm not certain myself. I wouldn't put it past her though," Roy said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Witchcraft works in weird ways…and her father’s power even more so. He was an awfully powerful creature; I expect Tess has taken after him at least somewhat. These powers almost have a life of their own. I don't know, maybe her fire-starting power felt threatened and lashed out to protect itself. I'm pretty sure whatever it is that happened wasn't Tess' conscious doing. She’s lucky she didn’t burn herself alive. We'll just never know, really. But I can tell you: Whatever happened scared the life out of her. She's been the way she is now, ever since then: irritable, stubborn, gloomy and shrewish and can't use her witchcraft well or that potently. I can't say I agree with Magda calling her crazy, but something definitely snapped that day."

Dante listened, silent. "Yeah, I can see that," he said. "Still, she's keeping it together better than others would."

Roy snorted. "That's relative. I told you before, don't compare her to yourself. You two are as different as day and night."

Dante merely nodded, and turned back to head upstairs again. "Thanks, old man," he called as he left.

" _Hmph_!" Roy replied in welcome, but his look was content. He watched Dante go, wiping his hands on a messy towel on the kitchen counter. “It’s not over yet… The wind’s telling me as much…” he sighed.

Dante headed back to his room. On the way, he walked by Tess' shut door. He stopped, hesitated and finally knocked. There was a brief shuffling and then the click of the door unlocking before it opened slightly. The room inside was dark, bar the faint night table light. Tess' red head emerged from the dimness. She had a tired expression and was holding a T-shirt, as if she was about to change and then rest. She looked mildly surprised he knocked.

"Hi. What do you want?" she said, sounding distant and a little worn. "Are you alright? You were bashed up."

"Been worse," Dante shrugged it off and placed his arm on the wall and leaned in as to whisper. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright. I mean, I know you weren't hurt or anything, but Roy kinda snapped at you…"

She opened the door just enough to lean against the threshold with her arms crossed behind her back. "He's just worried," she said quietly. "He's seen too many of my family killed by demons. He's fickle about keeping me away from that stuff. It's sweet of him to worry, but he needs to realize I'm not made of glass."

Dante nodded. "Heh, old man doesn't like me, does he? I mean, he ain't kicking me out and he's...he's been helping me out, but in all honesty, I think he kinda hates me now!" He bore a frown on his face at the thought of Roy acting fake around him. "Probably thinks _I'm_ gonna get you killed."

Tess stared at him briefly then laughed. "Who, Roy? Nah. He doesn't hate you. That’s just how he is. If he did he'd be more…physical and straightforward in expressing that, trust me. You wouldn't want him to. He said you guys even sparred. He’s almost dorky when he gets to squabble with someone. He obviously doesn't like you getting me in trouble, but other than that, he's probably pleased that someone other than me and Grams is around."

Dante pushed off the wall and crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one leg. "I hope you're right, because there's two things I hate in this world and one of them is fake people. See ya, Twig," he said and started walking toward his room again.

Tess too, pulled back in her room. "He's just horrible at being subtle. He probably doesn't want you to know that he actually likes you." She then poked her head out of the door again and looked down the hall. "So what's the second thing?"

Dante looked over his shoulder and stopped dead in his tracks. He had a sly grin, as usual. "Twigs. 'Specially ones that can manipulate fire."

“Ha-ha, real funny…” she scoffed and slammed her door shut. But Dante’d seen that small smirk on her face.

Dante took a shower and then passed out in his bed for a couple of hours before waking up later, in the dark morning hours, feeling hungry. He'd already cleaned his sword and guns already preparing for his planned expedition to return to the park and find that Cherno-thing. Making a note to find another grocery store to restock on nuke dinners, he headed downstairs with one of his last packets, barefoot in black pants and a red t-shirt.

As he bound down the stairs, a strange smell hit his nostrils. It smelled like someone was...baking? Yeah, that definitely smelled like something sweet in the oven. Surely enough, when he came to the kitchen door he stopped dead in his tracks and the sight he encountered made him drop the food packet on the floor, where it landed with a clatter. Wide-eyed and jaw dropped, he just stared at Tess, who was putting on a pair of _oven mitts_.

She looked back at him, with a deadpan expression, unsurprised to see him and completely calm and collected, while leaning against the counter.

"What?" she asked in a stern manner.

She was in a pair of sand-colored, cotton pants and a black top. She was barefoot too and had her hair pulled up behind her head with a clip and some loose strands trailed down the side of her head. But that hardly changed her appearance from that of a plain, shrewish piece of goods, albeit a feisty one. But the mitts…

He hesitated, the image not completely registering in his mind. "You're…you're--"

She rolled her eyes and finished the sentence for him. "Baking a cake. I make cakes late at night when I’ve had a bad day to cheer up. So what?" she said, crouching down to check the oven. A dark-colored cake was baking in there and the smell was quite enticing.

"But…but you're not feminine enough to bake! I mean--" he blurted, at a loss for words, as he stared in astonishment while collecting his nuke-tray from the floor.

She rolled her eyes at him as she opened the oven door and pulled out the pan with the dark cake carefully. A rich chocolate scent with a hint of vanilla poured into the kitchen.

"What exactly does being girly or not have to do with baking a frickin' cake?" she said sharply.

He just shook his head, ignoring the question and tearing his tray from its box. He mumbled about her baking like it was some abomination. "You think you know someone…" he sighed, trailing off.

She chuckled, flipping the pan over a platter and watching the cake slide out of it smoothly and land on the platter neatly. "Oh please, like you wouldn't want some chocolate cake with extra chocolate, over that pile of junk food," she said, pulling off the mitts.

His brows bowed up as he set the microwave. Whether he liked it or not, that smell was tugging at him like crazy. How long had it been since he'd eaten a home-made cake? Centuries? While the microwave started nuking his chow Dante turned to face her, leaning against the counter too. "Tell you what, I could do without the vanilla!" he stated.

She poked her tongue out at him as she picked up a bowl of chocolate glazing and a spatula. "Your loss, sucker," she said and started to glaze the cake. "And don't give me that look. You kill demons for fun; I bake _Hate Cakes_ and then sometimes I watch cult horror movies when I'm too gloomy to sleep."

Dante just looked at her with feign-frightened, wide eyes "Tess. You scare me. I'm getting worried about the people around you!" he said, peering over his shoulder at his microwave dinner, the tray half frozen still.

"Liar," she smirked, applying more glaze around the cake. "I know you want some cake," she chuckled. "Look, when I feel bad, I at least make my cakes  good. It was Roy’s idea to call them Hate Cakes when he first caught me making them, by the way.”

Dante smirked and moved closer to inspect the cake over her shoulder. "I don't suppose you bake 'Loathing Cookies' or 'Vengeance Bread' too?" he quipped. He had to admit, it looked very mouth-watering.

She nodded with a smirk. "And 'Misery Muffins' and 'Emo Brownies' too, sometimes. I felt like Hate Cake today," she added, finishing the glazing and putting the bowl on the counter.

Dante chuckled, sweeping a finger-full of glaze from the cake and indulging as the microwave dinged. As he pulled the box out and noted how it was still half-frozen in the middle, he asked: "Hey, d'ya think you can show me another store around here? I hear they're still rebuilding our mess."

Tess frowned and smoothed out the glazing again. "Yeah, sure. There's another one close to the clinic," she said, trailing off, like something crossed her mind, but she let go of it and just picked up a knife, cut a large slice of cake, putting it on a plate and left it on the counter for him, then cut a slice for herself.

"Hopefully they won’t come knocking at our door,” she muttered. “Then again, if this stuff escalates, the cops are gonna be the least of our worries.”

Frustrated with his sub-par microwave meal, Dante took a double-take at the cake offered. It was almost _calling out_ to him! He casually took up the plate and muttered a word of thanks before taking a testing bite. His brows bowed up a bit and he actually smiled a little. For a 'Hate Cake', it was a truckload of moist and tender chocolate love! He hadn’t eaten something this good in ages.

“You’re gettin’ soft on me, Twig,” he chuckled.

She covered the rest of the cake with a metal cover and started on her own slice, looking content with the result. "Feeding you doesn't mean I can't still. _Kick. Your. Ass,_ " she said with a little smirk.

He chuckled and nearly choked as he took another mouthful from his plate, answering with a full mouth, "Pwease. Oo coowent. Oo on't 'av uh 'art!"

Tess raised an eyebrow and chuckled at his full-mouth talk. "Haha, yeah, okay whatever..." she said awkwardly.

He swallowed and repeated. "I said, 'Please! You couldn't. You don't have the heart!'" His microwave dinner now looked and smelled like dogfood compared to the massive slice of cake Tess had given him and it was really cheering him up.

She assumed a mock shocked expression and chuckled. "I? I don't have the heart to kick your ass? Hah!" she countered, giving him a challenging look, like she dared him to try her out now while having another bite of her cake.

Dante just smiled, ever so sure of himself. "Nah. You can't. You love me too much!" He took another mouthful from his plate. He made a note that she seemed to be enjoying her cake about as much as he was, since half of her slice was already gone.

Her smirk widened. "You keep saying that; are you sure it’s not wishful thinking? Probably why you can’t stop bugging me."

His brow bowed up. _So that's what she thinks, eh?_

It seemed like it was about time to give her a little lesson.

“Maybe, Twig…”

He moved closer to her, putting his plate down on the counter as he passed and stood uncomfortably close to her. He had a very seductive look about him and as he stared into her eyes it was almost like peering into her soul. She looked up and froze when she saw him. He could see her confidence go out the window and she gripped at the edge of the counter with one hand nervously, while trying to hold on to her plate with the other. She blushed hard when he leaned in closer. She was so shocked that she just stared back, wide-eyed and tensed. He leaned forward, almost as if to kiss her.

She let a tiny squeak of surprise and shut her eyes before—

Just as his face came too close for comfort, he gave her a small shove and chuckled, amused at her confusion. She stared in bewilderment as he pulled back after the little shove with a teasing smile. She stared at him without speaking for a moment, before shaking out of it, standing straighter and glaring at him, pushing him away.

"That –that was not…funny at all!" she protested, still red-faced.

Dante simply chuckled, picking his plate back up and taking another fork-load of cake. "Oh, it was! You didn't fight back! Because you love me," he said with a smug smile before adding: "Quick, eat your cake! You're getting thinner!"

She frowned at him and rolled her eyes, finishing her cake slowly. "You are so fucking weird sometimes," she muttered.

He almost choked on his cake while laughing. "Aw, Tess! I'm flattered! You really _do_ love me!" he chuckled as he ate the last mouthful on his plate. He muttered a word of thanks for that 'orgasm-in-your-mouth' hate cake. Maybe he should start pissing her off more.

"You're welcome," she muttered back, then glared, still red. "But if you do anything like that ever again, I’ll…I’ll shove a Misery Muffin down your throat!"

Just as she said it, she realized how dumb it sounded and couldn't stifle a chuckle.

Dante chuckled too, not entirely sure why. He moved to the microwave again, removed the nuke-tray and threw away the overcooked food. The cake had satiated his ‘munchies’ for now. He made to leave the kitchen while she picked up the two plates and put them in the sink. He stopped at the door. He couldn’t help it. His impish—or rather, devilish side was rearing itself and a devious, if a little mean, plan was formulated.

 _I can’t leave it at that. Besides, I’m a demon hunter. I’m not afraid of a little witch. Besides, a slap won’t be anything to me,_ he thought and grinned.

Tess had her back to him as she piled dirty plates and bowls in the sink to wash them. She suddenly felt a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder, turning her around faster than she could react to. She briefly saw Dante and the next thing she knew, he leaned in and pressed a tight-lip kiss on her lips. Her eyes went really wide and she blurted a muffled squeak of shock while she promptly froze up in surprise. Before she could shove him off or react otherwise, he pulled back, grinned at her as she stared, shell-shocked and at a complete loss for words.

“Well? Where’s that muffin?” he asked cheekily and then laughing a bit. “I’m still hungry.”

She blinked a couple of times and then shook her head slowly in disbelief. "What?" she blurted and then the whole clicked and it made her angry.  "You--you," she stuttered, her fists clenching suddenly. "You're just… _making fun_ of me!" she uttered, feeling almost disgusted.

Dante’s look immediately showed that he realized his joke had turned sour very quickly, but she was too angry to listen to any of his explanations. She suddenly flew at him in a rage as her righteous fury at his very intimate (in her view) transgression bubbled over.

"YOU BASTARD!" she shouted.

Her fist met his face with a particularly loud and somewhat crunchy sound, in a truly awesome punch that could’ve come from a pro boxer rather than a skinny 16-year-old. Tess watched Dante's eyes widen as her fist rammed into his cheekbone, whipping his head to the side and sent him stumbling a few feet back, to land on his back and slide almost to the kitchen door. At the same time, Tess cussed and clenched her hurt knuckles in her other hand, making a hard cringe. Punching Dante in the face was unexpectedly painful. In her fury she’d forgotten about his part demon heritage—punching him felt almost like hitting wood or stone. She glared at him angrily as he lay on the floor motionless. He looked like he was out cold but Tess wasn’t buying one bit of it.

“Cut the bullshit, dumbass! I’m not going to fall for that!” she shouted at him, her already loosely-tied hair a complete mess by now. "You make fun of me and _steal my first kiss_ and you expect me to just play along!? Hell no!" she added, stomping over to him, with more or less the intention to kick him.

He still lay on the floor without moving and his pale face was motionless. His eyes were shut loosely, and his mouth slightly open. Tess stood over him, her leg poised to fly into a kick but she hesitated, still holding her hurt hand and biting her lip, contemplating what to do. She ended up prodding him roughly with her bare foot.

"Wake up! Come on you…you dipshit! If I'm gonna kick you, at least be conscious to feel it!" she yelled.

He just flopped around a little when she prodded him but did not react otherwise and she knew he was faking.

"FINE! You wanna be a jerk, be a jerk! I'm _not_ buying this because you're a flipping half-demon! You wouldn’t pass out if a girl punched you, you idiot!” she shouted, then drove a hard kick into his side and ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs with loud thumps of bare feet on the stairs. Near the top of the stairs she tripped and slammed her knee against the next step with a small groan. She straightened up, cursing, and continued her angry stomp up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her loudly.

Back downstairs, Dante opened his eyes and looked around, then up the flight of stairs as he sat up.

 _Well heck, she didn’t fall for it. I didn’t think she’d take it that badly,_ he thought, getting up and rubbing his cheek a little with a somewhat satisfied grin. _But, man, can_ she _pack a punch! First time I've ever gotten smacked by a girl like that._

He dusted himself off and left the kitchen, turning the lights off on the way, then headed upstairs after her, chuckling a little bit.


	8. Change of Pace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing realistic tantrums is hard. They never make sense. They break character and writing flow. Erk. I still can't believe how bad my writing was in 2008-2009.

The next morning, Roy was in the kitchen making some coffee and peeling a tangerine over the sink while the coffee brewed. He was pretty skeptical and concerned about something he only shared with himself, but nonetheless he was carefree enough to hum something to himself quietly.

The chilly morning breeze that came pouring through the cracks of the front door suggested it would be another miserable day. It had snowed again last night and a thick fresh layer of powder white lay over the streets and buildings. For much of the night before, Roy had been out, retracing and enforcing the protective barrier that surrounded the house. When he got back inside, Tess was gone from the kitchen and left it a mess. Seeing an abandoned microwave meal, he knew Dante’d been there and had probably done or said something that drove Tess away from her usual cleaning.

After that, Roy had sat up in the lobby up till morning, huddled over his desk with a little bit of his tangerine liquor for company. As he had predicted, Dante had snuck downstairs with the obvious intent of heading over to the park, probably thinking he could find and then face Chernobog. Roy had headed the arrogant teenager off before he even reached the last landing with an indignant snarl and a few choice words.

He told Dante the obvious: Chernobog was not going to be at the park, having to lick his wounds after being surprised by the djinn. Dante had looked so indignant and been so stubborn that Roy came close to actually hitting him to make a point. Thankfully, Dante had relented and retreated to his room for the rest of the night. It was a new day however, and Roy was going to give Dante the chance to patch things up.

He heard the familiar noise of Dante’s footsteps on the stair, and sure enough, soon the boy in question leaned against the kitchen door.

"Hey Roy. Got some more coins for trade!" Dante chimed.

"So I see," Roy now replied, putting a piece of tangerine in his mouth. "There's coffee if you feel like it."

“Nah, thanks,” Dante said, shaking his head. “Good to see you’re not pissed anymore,” he chuckled. “I gotta find somewhere else to do some shopping. I need some directions to a store and stuff.”

"Go up the boulevard and pass a pool bar called 'Finlay's', turn left there, walk straight up and it's right next to a restaurant," Roy replied almost without pausing to think. "It’s across a clinic."

"Thanks! Hey, how many of these old coins you want? I still got a few left," Dante said.

Dante didn’t seem to be angry with Roy, but the djinn knew the kid wasn’t about to change his attitude or ways yet. He knew it wasn’t his business to prevent him from doing something stupid, but Roy couldn’t help himself. He really did like the brat.

"Just drop a couple on the counter," Roy started, turning around and looking at him. He did a double take at the boy’s face. He stared for a few seconds with a bewildered blink then he smirked, started chuckling and then laughed loudly. "Have you seen your face this morning, son?" he cackled.

Roy kept chuckling as he took in the image of Dante's face: right under his right eye and around the socket there was a faint bruise that had to be from a punch to the face and he had a good idea who caused it.

Dante looked back at the old man in bewilderment as his hand grazed his face. Coming to the bruise, he winced from the soreness and scoffed.

"Ah nevermind that,” he cringed. "Now, how much for the coins? Say, five of them?"

Roy was still chuckling. "More than enough," he said mirthfully. "I'm gonna bet my tail on this and say that Tess punched you. Look, if you keep picking on her, she's eventually gonna hurt you pretty bad. What did you do to her this time?"

Dante seemed to almost blush a little there. “Twig’s got nothing to do with it. It’s either from last night’s fight or I bumped into the bathroom door last night,” he said dismissively.

Roy smirked. Of course the kid was never going to admit that he got punched out by a wisp of a girl or why. The boy reached into his pocket and pulled a couple of ancient coins with runes etched into them, just as the coins he had used to pay his rent the first day he showed up there.

" _Riiiiight_ ," Roy cackled, shaking his head. "Just watch what you're doing. She was pretty darn upset this morning when she went out," he added, observing the coins. "You never did tell where the heck you got these."

Dante smirked. "My old man left them. There was a small stack of 'em, but some creep pretty much robbed me. He told me they were worthless. But I eventually got a good chunk back."

Roy chuckled. "I'm not surprised at all. Anyway, drop two at the counter and take 200$ from the box there. I lock it with spells so it’ll be open for you. But if I find more than one extra cent missing, I’ll put your head on a stake. We clear?"

Dante walked backwards out the kitchen door, calling to the old man "I'm a demon, not a thief!"

Roy snorted. " _Hrmph_! As if one is better than the other!"

He heard Dante scoff and then the drop of two coins onto the counter. Roy knew that Dante wouldn’t find much else to take from the money box, since he never kept a lot of cash there. He trusted the kid would be honest anyway.

 _I might be_ too _kind to the little twerp… But I know he’s broke as a bum,_ he thought. _It’s hard to help this kind of feeling about the child when you liked the parent…_

The front door creaked open and then shut, as Dante marched out in search for a place where he could renew his food supplies. Roy chuckled and shook his head, pouring two mugs of coffee, then carried them over to Magda’s rooms. The door opened on its own as he approached and he found the old lady sitting in her usual armchair in front of a freshly lit fireplace. Roy offered her the mug before taking a seat on the couch right across her.

"Thank you Roy," she said, mildly and took a sip. "It's a lovely day, isn’t it?"

“Don’t get sarcastic with me, Magda,” he grumbled and drank coffee. “All this snow and cold—some weather it is. We both know it’s more than the bad weather.”

The old witch just scoffed. “The wards are holding fine. I just worry he’ll attract them here.”

"Nah, he won’t. They don’t seem to follow him at all. If it’s any comfort, you should’ve seen his face just now. Big fat punch bruise," he added with a chuckle.

"Courtesy of my granddaughter, I expect," she replied sadly, shaking her head. "She's so rough and untamed. She has none of her mother’s grace.”

"Rubbish. Sophie would've just _slapped_ him; big difference. Tess knows what she's doing. I wonder what he did to make her mad this time…" Roy replied, unconcerned.

"The good thing about my insomnia," Magda started, with a completely straight face, "is that it allows me to see things that I’d otherwise miss. I’ll admit I had a good chuckle watching them argue in the kitchen,” she said, drinking coffee again. “She’s almost childish sometimes.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So what’d he do?”

Magda’s face turned irritated. “I believe she termed it as ‘stealing her first kiss’. Obviously it was not what she was hoping for. She further humiliated herself by reacting to it so vehemently,” she sighed in a dejected tone. “I’m ashamed that her biggest concerns are trifling things like this.”

But Roy sputtered his coffee, almost out of his mug, wide eyed. “What?!”

The grand old lady was completely collected—if annoyed. "I don’t like where all this is going,” she said thoughtfully.

"You don’t like it—How do you think _I_ feel!?" Roy snarled and palmed his forehead. "I’m going to skin that little bastard…"

Magda didn't reply, she just drank her coffee serenely.

Meanwhile, halfway done with her evening stroll, Tess lingered in front of the small private clinic that stood not forty minutes worth of a brisk walk from the building. While the bitter cold wind blew hard, whipping her hair around, she stared up at the hospital looking very skeptical and clutching her jacket on her.

 _Why have I seen this place in visions? What is here? It's just an old clinic,_ she thought. _But I still feel like…something will happen here,_ she thought. _I kinda wish I hadn't made Dante mad at me. He'd probably have some ideas. But after that nonsense last night, I don’t think we can take each other seriously now._

Then she scowled. _I mean, he’s such an idiot._ _Some things…you just don’t make jokes about them._ _He made fun of me in the worst possible manner and I bet he doesn't even give rat's ass about it._

She looked down at the door of the clinic. She’d been here before when she’d fractured her arm as a kid after falling from a tree in the park. Roy had been very worried and carried her there. Back then it was flu season and the clinic was full of kids that sniffled and sneezed and complained. She’d been quiet even though her arm hurt but her eyes had been tearful all the way till they got back home with her arm in a cast. In contrast, the clinic now was quiet. She could see someone sitting at the reception desk inside, just beyond the glass door. Everything seemed absolutely normal.

Tess found herself unable to walk away from it just yet. _Why am I seeing these visions? What are you trying to tell me, stupid thing?_ she thought, as if asking her strange power directly would make it give her a clearer answer.

She looked up the road and squinted a little. She actually saw his aura before she saw Dante himself and rolled her eyes. He was most likely on his way to the store. Roy must have told him where the other one was, and since she didn’t want to deal with him, she turned around and walked away quickly, to disappear down another street entirely.

Dante resisted the bitter chill as he strode down the street. When he’d passed the wrecked grocery store, he’d taken a moment to check it out and resisted a chuckle. It was still closed off by authorities and looked like it was left in a worse mess than he’d left it. He pressed on, trying his best to shield his face from the cold by shrugging into his jacket. He half-wondered where Tess was, regretting that he’d made her angry—He should at least have waited until she showed him where that darn store was.

He passed the restaurant that Roy had mentioned and finally found it, straight across a small clinic, just as the old man had said. He gratefully noted it was pretty big and busier than the little store. More crowded places meant that he didn’t have to worry about being the center of attention and scrutinized. It was a really busy place though, because what should have taken twenty minutes took forty-five and it took another ten minutes before he was back at the boarding house.

He smiled a bit, looking at the faded and cracked paint of the façade. He’d heard Roy once groan that he wanted to get the whole exterior re-plastered and painted over, but had to wait for spring. By now its look was pretty welcoming in Dante's eyes. And not just the building; he mostly felt good to see the people that shared it with him as well, to an extent. Maybe not Magda, with her creepy and assertive ways, but Roy was decent and fair towards him and even Tess who, despite her rather unpredictable moments of anger and frustration, was becoming a somewhat welcome company.

He’d just started making his way for the stairs, when Roy popped his head from the basement door.

"Ah, Dante!" he said. "Found the store, I see. Say, did you see Tess at all? She's been out all morning and with this cold it's not like her to stay outdoors for so long."

Dante thought for only second before replying. "Nah, haven't seen her since last night when I was making my dinner." He put his groceries down by the stairs and flexed and rubbed the back of his neck. "What, is the Twig missing in action?" he asked.

Roy came up from the basement, wiping his hands with a cloth, and looking skeptical. "Yeah. She had a fight with her grandmother this morning—over nothing, really—before you came downstairs and she was pretty irritated when she left," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I hope she's not in any trouble. I'd go look for her but Magda's been a little cranky today and she's making me replace some rusty radiator parts downstairs," he sighed.

Dante shifted his weight to his right leg. "Tell you what. If you wanna grab my groceries and put them in my room for me, I'll go look for her."

 _Don’t even know why I’m doing this…_ he thought.

Roy lay silent for a moment. "Fine. Get going, because I know that half of her frets today are your doing,” he grunted and poked Dante’s chest with a finger. “I know what you two were doing, by the way.”

Dante lost his smile. “What!?”

“I’m not about to play chaperone for you brats, but mind your step, Dante,” Roy huffed. “I can’t understand you brats. One moment you're taking on demons together, the next you're trying to bite each other's face off."

Dante chuckled nervously, realizing that Roy probably didn’t care about their shenanigans. Then he turned heel and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder: "It's complicated!"

Dante scurried down the street again, biting his lip in annoyance. _Damn that old goat! How’d he find out?! Tess can’t have told him, she’d be too embarrassed!_ He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. _Speaking of which…where_ is _she?_ _Hmm, if I was an uptight Twig with an aptitude for fire and into baking hate cakes…where would I be?_ he thought.

He scratched his head a little bit and realized that all this time, she really had not let him in on the routes of her private walks. Hell, he hardly knew anything of her habits at all, even after living in the same house as her. Or rather, he was the one who had taken no interest and she didn’t discourage him, even though she knew quite a bit about his habits—mostly because he was a bit more predictable. She definitely was good at staying hidden when she wanted to be alone.

After a couple of hours of walking around aimlessly, Dante realized that although he could sniff out demons relatively easily, he really didn’t know how to track humans.

 _I almost wish I had some screams to follow…_ he even thought, grumpily as he rounded a corner not very far from the park.

Before his thought was even concluded, lo and behold, a female shriek rang through the nearby streets and Dante perked up. That shriek sounded awfully familiar.

 _Tess?_ he thought.

Judging by that shriek, she wasn't far. He instantly forgot about his mood and ran in the direction it had come from. It was only now that he noticed there were no people wandering the streets, only a strange stillness capping the snow-strewn street. It felt like bad news.

Suddenly from a turn to his right, a blast was heard and some rubble fell off a building and onto the street. Tess came running round that same turn, dodging the rubble. A large Goatling demon, one of those odd, goat-like demons, came right behind her, flapping its heavy wings to follow her. It jerked its head and bellowed, landing hard on its hooves with a thud and trudged after her, grunting and swaying its massive arms as it walked.

Dante's eyes narrowed as he saw the demon stalk her closely and so boldly in broad daylight. The street wasn’t so much abandoned as it was just teeming with demonic presence that was making people steer clear of it and stay indoors even without realizing it. Demons had that kind of effect on regular humans, something Dante believed that had more to do with an unwillingness of humans to see demons for what they were rather than an inability to understand and confront them.

He gritted his teeth when the Goatling raised its arm in a characteristic gesture he recognized—it was going to hurl a blast of energy at her and she wasn’t looking in her haste to just put distance between her and it.

He drew his guns quickly, firing several sounds at its head. “Hey! Pick on someone your own size, fatass!”

The Goatling whipped its head back and groaned loudly in pain, stumbling backwards, its intentions interrupted. Tess turned around abruptly and got into a sort of defensive stance, inspecting what happened. She eyed Dante and for a moment she looked vastly relieved but then she assumed a look of contempt.

"Are you following me too? What _is_ it with demons today?" she said in a frustrated manner, evidently still angry at him.

Dante fired again at the demon a few more times, driving it further back as he walked up to Tess slowly. When he got beside her, he lowered his gun and turned to her. "You're welcome for saving your life. I know I'm your hero. No, it was nothing!" he said sarcastically. "It was Roy's idea! We missed you today!"

Before the demon had any time to recover, Dante opened fire again, pushing it back and quietly grumbling that he didn’t bring his sword. But since he didn’t think he’d do more than some morning shopping he didn’t even think about it.

Tess did not just sit there and wait to be rescued, she plucked her courage together and hurled bolts of fire at the demon, driving it further back while it grunted in pain.

“Well, I'm touched! You both like to think I'm some...feeble damsel in distress all the time!" she said, frustrated.

Dante frowned, irritated at her response and then shrugged, put his guns away and motioned to simply walk away. “Fine then! Your problem!”

 _If she’s gonna be such a bitch, fine by me. Why should I even bother?!_ He growled quietly.

He started to walk away from her, feeling angry. He expected at least _some_ gratitude for coming to her rescue and she gave him a cold shoulder. Being blown off after wasting so much time looking for her was just too much for his ego to tolerate. He knew she had to buckle and ask for help.

 _Besides, it’s just a Goatling,_ he thought spitefully. _If she has trouble with that, then she wasn’t worth a dime as a witch anyway--_

It took a moment for him to realize how malignant that sounded; it was as if something sinister from within was speaking, and he felt horrible because of it.

The demon already began to guard against Tess’ fire once the shots ceased, and with a roar conjured a blast that it hurled at them, indiscriminately. Tess ducked under it and the blast whizzed harmlessly over Dante head, merely singing a bit of his hair, and he stopped, waiting to hear her ask him to stay. The Goatling then roared again and conjured another blast that it intended to hurl directly at Dante who, in the demon's eyes, dared to defy it so blatantly.

It snorted and spoke in a rough, throaty voice. "The line ends here, halfling! You turn your back to your kin; you will die like a filthy dog! You and your little _girlfriend._ "

Dante started at the word 'girlfriend' and he heard Tess utter a gasp of quite rightful indignation. His eyes narrowing with apprehension, he turned and hurriedly walked back to the fray.

" _Girlfriend_? Wrong word, buckethead! Besides, she seems more like _your_ type!" he bellowed. “You see what you do, Twig!? People get the wrong idea about us!” he added, glaring at her.

Tess protested just as badly as he did. "His _girlfriend_? Like hell!" she shouted, indignant, then turned to Dante, getting in his face. "I do it?! This is your fault! I’d sooner have kissed a _troll_ than you!" she said fearlessly, while glaring at him. "You're a fucking jerk!"

The Goatling actually stood briefly surprised at the fight that seemed to break out between the teenagers and just stared from one to the other. It had not expected them to outright ignore it and turn on each other with such fierceness. They ignored the demon as though it were no more trouble than a mere stray dog and started ranting between them.

Dante turned from the beast and faced Tess proper. He felt like fighting with her rather than the Goatling. After all, _she_ got to his nerves more. "Sure! And you got so flustered last night when I kissed you because you hate me so much! _Pu~lease_! If I wasn't kidding around, you'd have _loved it_!" he said arrogantly. "You only got pissed off after I cracked a joke!"

"Of course I did! You were _making fun of me_! Did it _ever_ occur to you that it might’ve bothered me? That—that was _my first kiss_! And you _ruined_ it by making fun of me! You don't give jack shit about others, do you?" she growled, almost getting in his face, while ignoring the Goatling herself.

It looked like all the fear that the demon had struck in her had evaporated before her boiling anger and contempt for Dante and his behavior. She acted like she’d had enough of him.

Dante glared back at her. "That's right; I’m a selfish bastard. In fact, I don't care enough to come and find your sorry little ass and help you!" he said, pointing to the _bewildered_ Goatling that was still staring back and forth between them.

Tess frowned. "You didn’t need to humiliate me like that! You say you care—but you've got the emotional range of a damn trashcan!"

Before he could answer, the Goatling snapped out of it and started advancing towards them again determinedly, even more intent on killing them. Without flinching or even aiming, Dante drew Ebony and shot out the Goatling's eye; his attention was still on Tess as she ranted at him. He glanced over at the monster, now holding its hands over its eyes and flailing about in pain.

"Wait your turn!" Dante barked at it.

"I'm waiting for an answer too! Why did you have to pick on me like that?" Tess snapped, while adding some pain to the Goatling by making fire burst under its feet, the sudden eruption of which surprised it, making it fall on its back.

"Because it was funny!" Dante retorted. "You're just a tight-ass!" He slowly walked over to the demon, facing Tess the whole time and shouting, frustrated. "And you're keen on admitting you love me! Maybe if you'd be a little more open, Twig, I'd have taken it more seriously!"

Tess stared with such an indignant and angry look that if they could kill, Dante thought he’d be looking at a pretty fearsome killer indeed.

"How can _anyone_ like you when you keep thinking only about yourself?” she snapped. “It wasn't funny at all! I got _scared_! And angry! You used me to get a fucking laugh!" she replied, edging closer to the demon too, with less confidence than him, though.

Despite the potentially dangerous situation they were facing, the two continued the squabbling between them, undeterred. He drove a kick straight into the face of the Goatling, pressing its head down underfoot angrily and placed his gun point-blank against the demon's head. He didn't even take his gaze off of her.

"How the hell can you say that all I think about is myself when here I am helping you take this beast out?"

With a loud bang, a bullet was planted right in the demon's temple, and resulted in the bitter smell of burnt demon hide.

"You don't care how I _felt_ about that stupid thing you did! You _kiss_ me and then you just—you just laugh! I took it seriously and you _laughed!_ Just try to imagine how I felt for a second!"

Dante rolled his eyes. "Maybe—" his attention turned to the Goatling that stayed motionless for a moment after the gunshot then suddenly let a loud groan, jerking its massive hand and grabbing his leg harshly.

"Oh shut up!" Tess snapped at it and sent a blast of fire to scorch the demon's face with an angry sizzling sound. "Can't you see we're talking!?"

It grunted loudly and its grip on Dante's leg loosened. He shook the demon's arm off his leg and then looked back at Tess as he continued: "Maybe I _did_ take it seriously. Maybe I used the joke because I got nervous. How about that?"

Tess looked like she was going to blush again. "Then you really are a bad kisser," she said dryly, then stared at the Goatling. "Is it dead yet?"

"I don't care, I'm not done with you," he bellowed and walked over the beast and came close to her, almost getting in her face. He was so angry and frustrated at her childishness that he lost control of his tongue. "For your information, tight-ass, you were my first too."

Immediately he regretted admitting that to her and marched away from the fray very irritated. But she too had ruined the first real kiss he shared with a girl. What was so wrong about making a little joke out of it, anyway? He heard her grumble behind him as she followed. She was still angry and he could hear her muttering.

A few moments later, something wet and cold hit him hard on the back of the head with a loud ‘splat’. He wasn’t expecting that and gasped, then realized it was a snowball. He stopped in his tracks and whipped around.

“Cut it out! You’re such a child!” he snapped. "Maybe it's time to grow up," he bellowed then turned back around and headed for home—well, the building.

 _I'm overstaying my welcome at that loony-bin. I just thought of it as 'home'. Like that'd ever be anything near to that with this crazy little bitch living just a couple of doors away from me,_ he thought then shook it off and pressed on.

Tess frowned at his reply, but her anger wasn't gone yet and she threw another snowball at him, which also hit him, this time the shoulder. "What's the matter? Beat a demon and you can't face me?" she called, scooping up another snowball. "Face it man, we _are_ kids! You aren't older than sixteen, neither am I! You're not going to tell me how I'm going to act! You're no better yourself, smart-ass."

Dante turned around again, still walking in the same direction and called to her: "Keep pelting snowballs, Twig, see how far it gets you!"

Without being afraid at all, she merely threw another one while following him. It hit the small of his back. "I don’t care. I just hate you and your arrogance. It's either snowballs or fireballs! What'd you rather have?" she said with a smirk.

But Dante ignored her all the way back to the building complex and she didn’t care. Sure, she was bothersome, but he had to prove a point, whatever that was. For a moment he'd felt the urge to respond to her snowballs and pelt her back with some, but he didn't. He decided to ignore her and after that last one, she stopped too. Walking into the building one after the other, Dante dryly greeted Roy in the lobby before he could speak.

The familiar was in his cat form, standing by the staircase with his tail held up. "Welcome back, did you—"

"Hi," Tess said dryly as she stepped in and removed her coat. "Sorry I got you worried."

"Just as long as you didn't get in trouble," the cat purred, looking up at her.

"I just got carried away walking around," Tess replied, evading the observation with as much cool as a polar bear.

Roy looked a little taken aback by her apparently disappointed and moody look. "Okay," he said awkwardly, letting them go to the kitchen while he trotted off to find a corner for his usual evening nap. He sounded like he’d given up on trying to figure them out.

Dante decided not to open his mouth about what had happened. He might've been pissed off, but he refused to be a rat unless it meant life or death. If she wasn’t going to talk about it, he wasn’t either. Tess went right into the kitchen and after hesitating, Dante followed. If nothing else, he was parched and a glass of cold water sounded good.

She busied herself with setting the kettle to boil some water and fished a small box out of the cupboard that contained tea bags, evidently desiring a hot beverage after all that cold. She seemed less cross now, but she didn’t look calm yet.

"Thank you for not telling," she said with a small voice.

Dante shrugged and refused to reply, taking a glass from the cupboard above his head and filling it with the sink. He kept his back to her and he gulped down his glass, filling it for a second helping. He was too angry to ask himself just what exactly had gotten him pissed off again: the fact she had not appreciated his help, the fact that she said he ruined her first kiss...or when she said she hated him.

 _Why the hell does this bother me all of a sudden?_ a tiny part of him asked. _It’s not like I care about her attitude for me, right? She's just so…so fickle!_

For her part, Tess was still very angry. She didn't look at him, but she frowned and grit her teeth for being ignored. She felt like she had things to say, but which she didn’t. She knew that her tantrum had not really been _only_ about that stupid antic of his last night, because tantrums are never about what they seemed to be about. Something else was really bothering her. She had been doing a bit of thinking lately and some things were beginning to sink in. She couldn’t’ tiptoe around it anymore.

"You're right. Maybe I am childish, thinking that I can fight those things the way you can. I'm just a human after all. Or maybe Grams is right and I _am_ crazy. Maybe you’re all right and I should mind my own fucking business, but I can't be like her, just standing back and watching. But I know I could’ve died from that stupid thing, if you hadn’t shown up. I can't fight on my own. I get scared. I just--" she said angrily, and then trailed off. "Grams is right, I'm a damn failure and I hate it."

Dante cut in just as she trailed off. "Damn right! Finally, you're gettin' the point! You'll never be in any shape to face those things." His voice was annoyed, almost angry. "It’s not because your hag of a grandmom says so—it’s because you’re not thinking it through! Demons like that aren't slow _or_ stupid. You have this idea in your head that humans--regardless of powers or not--can fight demons. Well, I got news for you, bones; those things _you've_ been seeing are just the tip of the iceberg. Boring, unimportant turd. Between lesser demons and guys like the demon lords of the Underworld lies nothing but a world of pain and suffering. Stuff no human can handle! Not even you witches!"

It took her a while to answer and she kept her back to him the whole time. She got angry again as well. He'd just insulted her in every possible manner, instigating that she should back off entirely. She had admitted that she was seeing a point in letting him take the lead of things, not that she'd drop out of action for good! She returned to the same cross and angry being she had always been before he came around, her old bitterness pouring back in her attitude.

"Is that what you think? That I--that we're useless? The sacrifices and the dead wiccans--that they're insignificant?" she said, her voice cracking and she finally turned to stare at him. Her look was hard and cold but at the same time her eyes were glazing over and she was obviously trying hard not to cry. "You--you bastard! That’s what’s pissing me off with you!! You treat me like I’m a frail weakling! You think I’m ignorant! Don't you lecture me over the power of demons, Dante! I already told you— _I know_ what demons can do! I felt it myself! You're--you're _just like them_! You don't understand anything! You think you are so superior, just because you're a half-demon! You're a hypocrite!" she shouted.

She was so upset and angry and above all, _confused_ just then that she didn't quite have control of herself, or what she was saying, and none of her usual composure.

For his part, Dante suddenly felt his anger flaring the moment she said he was like other demons. That really set him off beyond measure. Now he felt insulted. He threw his glass to the ground, shattering it and making a forceful advance toward Tess, standing but centimeters from her and forcing her to back up into the counter as he towered over her. She got startled, gripped at the edge of the counter behind her back and her eyes widened when he scolded her down.

Getting right in her face, he muttered to her in a violent tone: "Stop. You don't know what you're talking about. You have no idea, _little girl_. I'm nothing like them. Do you see me killing humans for the fun of it? Because if that's what you want to see of me, _I'll start with you_. You know what makes you weak, Tess? You just don't let go of the past. You keep clinging to your parents' deaths as an excuse to hold you back. Do yourself a favor and stop being such a girl about this."

Dante bore a beyond annoyed look on his face and backed off, leaning against the opposite counter with his head hung. Part of him felt bad for speaking to her like that, but he was mostly still fiercely angry and felt he'd better compose himself before he did anything he’d regret. She was left staring at him across the kitchen and looked both very angry and very upset. She stood there and glared at him, breathing hard in indignation. She looked away then to the side on the counter. He felt bad suddenly, knowing they were both just throwing tantrums.

He looked up with the intent to tell her that they probably should just drop this nonsense when he saw her hand going for a long kitchen knife. Her fingers slid along the blade and closed around the hilt decisively. Her head hung and her hair fell over the sides of her face, while she stood silent and just looked down, like she was considering her next move.

Suddenly aware that this had gone far enough, Dante assumed that she would now proceed to fly at him with the knife or something equally dramatic.

“Yeah, lot of good that’s going to do you,” he bellowed. “Go ahead. Carve me up like a Christmas fucking ham. Maybe your granny’s right after all. You’re crazy.”

He still didn’t budge. He was determined to face whatever hysteria the witch would unleash upon him. His adrenaline rush from the fight hadn't subsided yet and made him feel like he could take on anything. It was a horrible feeling he had, like something was over-powering him. He thought about his demonic nature. Was it making him feel hostile to her?

Tess didn't budge, neither did she hesitate and her actions surprised him. She just raised her free arm and the knife at the same time, without looking up, and for a moment it looked like she was going to cut her arm open.

"Shut up, idiot. Why do you think everything revolves around you, huh?" she hissed.

Dante made to walk forward, but only took a step, deciding it was best not to get too close in case she _did_ decide to take her own life. But he really didn't want to let her do something like that!

 _For fuck’s sake, what is_ wrong _with this girl!?_

He outstretched his hand. "Give me the knife, Tess," he said forcefully "Knock it off! It's not funny, and it's not gonna help you face anything I—"

She looked up at him, her eyes a frozen green, dry of tears. "SHUT UP, DANTE!" she shouted, seizing her own hair and started to cut it with the kitchen knife.

He actually froze up and stood there petrified from surprise, watching her. Handful after handful, the red locks fell into her hand and onto the floor. She cut away at her hair coldly, her face frowned and her teeth clenched. She tore away at them in frustration and almost on the verge of crying. She didn't stop until her hair were a good foot or so shorter, up to her chin, disheveled and sticking up wildly, uneven in some places and looking rather pitiful. Once she felt her anger was appeased somewhat and realizing the spectacle she was, she tossed the knife onto the counter angrily and strode up to him, thrusting most of her cut hair into his hands, panting from the anger and excitement.

"You banter about my _girlyness_ all the time. Now you can take it out the back and shoot it in the head, if it pleases you. I'm through with what I was. I’m through with your stupid opinions of me. I am not weak and I’m not going to let you make me feel like shit anymore, you bastard," she snapped and stormed out of the kitchen and almost stepped on Roy's tail as she stomped up the stairs.

He heard the door slam shut in her wake.

Roy, who had hurried back to the kitchen door as soon as he heard them shouting, was left staring up the staircase, then to Dante, back up the stairs, then back at Dante. "Whoa. That--that-- _huh_!" he exclaimed.

Dante held her the clumps of her hair in his hand, utterly confused and not knowing exactly what to do. He looked at the cat on the floor by the stairs, then back to the clumps of hair in his hand.

After a moment's thought, he smiled devilishly, realizing something and muttered: "'Adda girl!"

 _Alright. You win this round, Twig. Dammit, you got some guts to act like that knowing all you do about me. I don't know if you're nuts or gutsy--but I like it,_ he thought then discarded the hair clumps into the trashcan and walked passed Roy, completely ignoring him and striding up the stairs. Before Roy could say anything, he yawned and spoke: "I'm off to bed, then."

Roy just stared in shock -if a cat can look shocked- as the boy passed him, then back in the kitchen then back up. He dropped on his hind legs with a sigh, and shook his head, letting a deep, upset meow. "I don't get these kids," he growled.


	9. Random Acts of Violence

Twilight set on the city the following evening as Dante made his way into the boarding house again, after spending another day mostly wasting time around the city. He’d been looking for trouble in the form of Bloodgoyles or better yet, that Chernobog creature, with no success. But he had made an interesting observation: that park was right in the middle of what one could define as the 'city center' or the living heart of the city, and many occurrences of violence and murder had happened not only in, but also around the park. It was almost like whatever was going on in the city was slowly taking over it in a steady, obscure pace. He removed his coat and hung it over his arm as he made for the stairs, briefly waving to Roy as he passed and trudged across the hardwood floor.

Roy, who was sweeping the floor in the lobby, returned the greeting with a nod. "Hey son," he said then chuckled. "Still no retaliation? I'm surprised that she hasn't cursed your butt into Kingdom Come yet."

Dante just smiled widely, as if he knew something Roy didn't and went up the stairs. Tess had avoided him like the plague for the rest of yesterday and besides one foray into the kitchen and one visit to her grandmother, she hadn’t been out of her room much.

He didn’t think much of it, expecting she’d get over it eventually, but he did have something interesting to talk about. He’d found another madman on a murder rampage in the industrial area of the city and killed him after prodding him a little to see if he was anything like the first one. Apparently he had not killed many when Dante found him, since he looked relatively human still, and had been looming over the body of a vagrant in an alley. But the moment Dante confronted him, his underlying demonic nature seemed to just accelerate, as if Dante’s presence had suddenly lit its fuse. He had gone down easily, and Dante was left with the added satisfaction of having very likely prevented a more extended bloodbath.

He passed Tess' door and pounded his fist on it, but didn't stop. He just wanted to annoy her and get her attention. Maybe even to see whether she was going to start changing. He went to his room, threw his coat on the bed, changed into a clean shirt and a bomber jacket, then pulled the door shut again. When he passed Tess' door again, he knocked a second time but again did not stop. He walked back down the stairs to Roy.

"Seen her at all today?" he asked.

"Hmm, not really," Roy replied, stopping his sweeping. "She took off after you did. Got back a while ago…and right now, she's just behind you."

Dante whipped straight around to come almost face to face with the red-head, who'd gotten in the house while he was upstairs and now came from the kitchen.

She had a discontent look on her face. "If you knock on my door again like that, I'm gonna break it over your head," she told him dryly.

She looked pretty different. Her hair was short to her chin now, a stark difference that made her face look narrower and stand out more and brought attention to her eyes a lot. She was wearing low-rise pair jeans, a deep purple shirt and a black tank top over it with a heart cracked in two and sewn together, lying in a puddle of blood and the words 'I Break Hearts' under it.

Dante winced a little at her cold expression and shrugged his shoulders, feigning a look of ignorance on his face. He scratched the back of his head. "Looks like you're not completely pissed at me, since I’m not dead yet," he said, a bit amused. She looked pretty different with that haircut. Almost more mature and _adult_.

Tess crossed her arms over her chest. "I was last night, but now that I fixed my hair up a little, it doesn't look that bad. I wouldn't have cut it if you hadn't pissed me off, so I hate to admit that I have you thank for the change," she said, raising her eyebrow and smirking. She seemed to have forgiven him, for the most, but wasn't switching back to friendly yet.

Roy tilt his head to the side, staring. "I'll need some time to get used to that look," he cackled and nudged Dante. "Don't you think she looks like an angry vixen ready to bite your head off like that?"

"She _is_ a rabid shrew anyway. It’s not much of a change. She still can’t bite _my_ head off," Dante smirked mischievously at her, giving her a teasing look that just spelled _'Nah-nah nah nah-nah!'_

Tess just rolled her eyes. Roy smirked and made for the basement. "Anyway, looks like you two are heading out or something. Have fun and try to not get killed!" he called behind him. "Or kill each other!"

Dante looked in the old-timer's direction, then back at Tess. "What do you suppose he meant by _that_?"

"He means that every time you and I step out the front door, we get in trouble," she said dryly, then paused. "Do you want to go for a pizza? Roy is too busy and I'm not in the mood to cook," she added suddenly.

Dante realized how hungry he was when she mentioned pizza and nodded eagerly with wide eyes, making her chuckle at his look. "What'd he mean by 'Don't get killed' anyway? What's he take us for, babies?" he added with a small cringe.

"He's not an idiot, Dante," Tess said, picking up her coat. It was black, made out of cotton and wool fabric, and reached down to her thighs as she buttoned it up. "He knows what we're up to all the time. In fact, I'm surprised he's letting us go out and about after what happened at the park. I expected him to start stalking us to keep an eye on us, but he hasn't. I'd have sensed him if he had."

"Heh, seriously? Doesn't he know how to get around your freaky radar?" and before she could answer, he asked another question. "So where are you taking me?"

In a gesture of rare courtesy, Dante held the door open for Tess to walk through. Tess smirked as she walked out. "He's _tried_. But I always find him out. And there's a pizza joint around here that isn't as dingy as other places. Its food is actually edible."

Dante followed closely behind, smiling wide. Finally, after a day's worth of tracking down demons, he was finally able to relax and enjoy a meal. He didn't plan on discussing what he’d seen with Tess until later. "Edible is all I need right now," he said, as his stomach made an angry growl and Dante could have sworn he heard it say ' _Feed me!'_

"Yeah, me too," Tess sighed. She tucked some of her short hair behind her ear, walking along the street, not looking like she was in much of a talking mood.

Dante watched her and thought he sensed some tension beneath her calmness. His instant reaction was to question it. "Alright, what's wrong, Twig?" he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket's pockets.

She didn't stop or look back, just kept on walking, her hands in her pockets too. "Does there always have to be something wrong with me? Can't I just be, you know, not in the mood to talk to you?"

"No. If you're not talking, something's wrong. That's always the way with you so far, and I doubt a haircut changed that. Now spill," he said, stopping in his tracks and refusing to move until she told him what was going on.

She stopped too and twirled some of her hair around her finger. "And why are you so interested in knowing?" she asked pointedly, giving him a look over her shoulder.

Caught off-guard by that look, Dante instantly went on the defensive, not quite sure why. "I just don't want you throwing another of your tantrums at random. Better to know what to keep away from."

Tess chuckled. "It's nothing. Grams bitched me, again. She hates my hair, big surprise. She says you’re an awful influence and for once in our lives…I agree.”

Dante raised an eyebrow. “Dunno about that, I’ve known nothing but trouble since I came here.”

“You _like_ trouble, don’t pretend it bothers you,” she said dryly. “Anyway, I’m done being held back by my issues. That’s all. But…you haven't given me _your_ opinion about my hair. It was your doing anyway," she said and turned to face him with a sly smirk. "Well?"

He fell for the subject change. "You want my opinion?" he asked, taking a step forward and raising an eyebrow. "You really want my opinion?"

She tilted her head to the side with a _'d'uuh'_ look. "Why else would I ask?"

Dante raised an eyebrow and shrugged, looking down first, then back to her. "You look like you're twelve now," he lied. "It’s an improvement, but there's still room for more. Haircut alone ain't gonna make you any prettier, you better work on that temper of yours."

Tess just sighed, losing her smirk. She shook her head, looking down. "You really don't know how to talk to a girl," she concluded, turning back around and walked down the street.

"Hey, I'm not trying to impress you," Dante retorted, snidely. "You already love me, so why bother?" He smiled wide, knowing he was getting under her skin. His stomach gave another command for food and he cringed. Tess twitched a little, but she kept walking. She seemed to be getting used to his mocking, but that didn't mean she could outright ignore it.

"Well, I guess that since _you_ love me too, you must like it anyway," she said shoving her hands in her jeans' pockets.

Dante maintained his devilish smile. Throw his words at him, dare she? "I never said I loved you, Twig. I kissed you because I wanted a muffin! And you have yet to give me one," he said, jabbing his index finger towards her. "You owe me a muffin, damn it!"

Tess rolled her eyes with an amused chuckle. "Fine, you big baby, I'll buy you one at the pizza diner," she said, her hands fidgeting in her pockets. She kept smiling and walking, without turning. "And thanks for the compliment on my baking."

Dante looked to the side, still smiling. "It's a shame you don't look as good as you bake."

She stopped beside a street lamp, her hands still in her pockets, still grinning. Now he wasn't just teasing her; she was playing along for fun. "And how should I look, to reach your standards, hmm? Like some Playboy bimbo with boobs bigger than her head? No thank you."

Dante made a sour face. "Ugh, no! Playboy girls are so fake, like blow-up dolls," he said, making a face like he wanted to throw up. "Me, I like girls with a nice, natural figure. Boobs aren't a problem, but I like a nice butt!" he said, making a gesture like he was outlining a woman's figure, and smiled wide, hoping to get Tess to blush some. And surely, she did!

Her face faintly colored. "Wow, no comment there. Pity I don't fit into that since I'm so thin, eh?" she said, sarcastic.

Dante looked at her again. "Pity for _you_ , maybe. I, on the other hand, don’t care so much. Where do you think I go all day when I'm not with you?" he asked cheekily, placing his hands behind his head as if he was lying down and relaxing. He was probably pushing it, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Tess just stared at him, with a 'you can't be serious' look on her face, looking slightly put off. She just rolled her eyes, shrugged and was about to retort when she trailed off, losing the smirk and her gaze fixing on something behind Dante. He noticed and looked over his shoulder.

There was a group of people coming their way, about a dozen of them, all wearing black or dark-colored clothes, mostly baggy pants and hooded sweatshirts, jackets, overcoats and hats or beanies, so that they all appeared to be wearing the same, or at least a similar kind of 'uniform'. They walked down the street in a mob, without talking. Their slow and steady, suspicious gate was a little unnerving; they walked with determination and their slow confidence showed no fear. They seemed to be heading directly for the two teenagers.

Dante shrugged, thinking it was nothing worth noticing and motioned to walk on. After he got a few steps ahead, he looked back at Tess, who was lagging behind.

"C'mon, slowpoke!"

Tess backed up against him a bit and this time, she was clearly rather worried. " _Fannysmackers_ " she said quietly. She sounded like it both scared and disturbed her.

Dante raised an eyebrow and looked back ahead of him. Another mob of similar people were coming down that side too. They were flanked. Dante bowed up an eyebrow, wondering why they'd make her feel so distressed.

"Fannysmackers?" he quipped.

"Local slang for these delinquents. They’re bored teenagers, thrill-seekers and trouble-makers, all rolled in one. They roam the streets and randomly beat up people for no reason. Just for fun or whatever twisted idea they have in their heads. They don't care who their victim is. If they decide to beat someone up, they go for it. It’s been happening for a while, almost the same as the crazy dudes' violence sprees," she said, sounding disturbed. "Aw shit, they're flanking us, I think _we're_ being targeted," she muttered, frowning.

Dante smirked, shook his head and stepped closer to Tess. "Relax. If I can fight off demons, a bunch of humans can't be much trouble." His voice was a mumble as he reached behind his back to draw Ebony from the back of his pants. "Just don't use your witchcraft, Twig, you don't want to scare them witless, do you?" he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Unless _you're_ scared."

Tess jerked her head to look at him and hissed: "I'm _not_ scared of them. And don't use that gun! They're just people! You _can't kill them_!" she said, grabbing his arm to make him put the gun away.

Dante obeyed but only to an extent. He was never intending to shoot humans for the kill, not unless another life depended on it and there was nothing else he could do. He pushed his gun back in the rim of his pants, but never promised _not_ to use them. Meanwhile the two groups had flanked them for good. They stopped, a mere few paces away from them, almost surrounding them. They turned out to be a mish-mash of young people of various ages, from as young as thirteen to as old as twenty-four, of both sexes. But the majority of them were boys between sixteen and twenty. One of them stepped ahead of the rest, with a smug grin. He pulled down his hood, showing brown hair dyed blond and combed in spikes and muddy-brown eyes. He was barely taller than Tess but he couldn’t be older than nineteen.

"Well, well, look who we just found: The Wicked Bitch of the West Side. Long time no see, hun," he said with a mocking chuckle, looking straight at Tess.

Although she seemed to acknowledge him as well, Tess gave him the kind of look she'd direct at a rat. "Dean," she replied, with fake pleasantry. "Been a while, hasn't it? You still stink of weed even from 5 feet away."

As this Dean character neared, Dante thought he could smell something on him too. It wasn't weed, either. It was blood. Faint, but there, he could smell it drying on his clothes. Maybe Tess was right and this group was more dangerous than it seemed.

He tensed, both defensively but also in anger. _Threaten us and call my girl a bitch?_ he thought, surprising himself. He twitched, checking himself and not letting his arm pull the gun out and blow this idiot's head to pieces. _Get it together!_ he ordered himself. _Tess isn't your girl, what the hell are you thinking? Don't stoop down to their level, you moron!_

Dean paid no attention to Tess' comment or to Dante's faint glare and just kept smirking widely. The presence of his accompanying mob obviously gave him a sense of security in numbers.

“Yeah, what’s it really been, two years? Your old uncle kicked me out just because we were having some fun in the house,” Dean chuckled.

“Oh, all that shit you snort all the time must’ve messed your head. We kicked you out because you tried to turn the building into your personal whorehouse and junkie-yard,” Tess replied sarcastically. “If I remember correctly, it was just too many call-girls, too much booze and too much bullshit that got you kicked out.”

Dante smirked a little, but kept watching Dean who eyed them up in turn. “You're still an arrogant little bitch, Tess. And my, my, your taste in boys sure has changed. I didn't think you were into 'pretty boys' or I'd have done my hair emo and put on a pimp coat to waltz into your pants. Unless he's just another tenant in that dump of your old granny's and you're duping him around."

Slight snickers and chuckles came from the rest of the mob, along with a few nudging elbows. One of them laughed audibly and added a 'decorative' comment, insulting Dante particularly.

"Just get lost," Tess hissed back, losing her temper again. "You brought it all on yourself. If you weren't so busy getting high all the time you might've realized. And he's _not_ my boyfriend if that's what your puny brain is trying to spell out. But you know what? He's ten times a better company than you were--and he doesn't need to _try_ so hard."

Some people from the mob let taunting whistles and small cheers at the girl's sly reply, while others chuckled at Dean, who bore the last comment with a silent, intimidating look. It switched back to an arrogant smile. "Hah! You never change, Tess," Dean chuckled. "Newsflash, princess, you're in my turf now and boy, do I owe you just desserts!"

"Oh, I'm scared. What are you going to do, huh? Beat me to a pulp like you've done to other people? Think you can even handle me?" she challenged him, getting in Dean's face as the mob stirred and began to coax Dean into picking a real fight with her.

Before this would escalate into a nasty thing, Dante put his hand up on her shoulder, pulled her back gently and walked past her. He got between Dean and Tess, looking down at him with a cold stare. "You've said enough. Pisses me off when someone's got a bigger mouth than me," he said in a quiet, threatening tone. A sarcastic smirk of pity was on the edge of appearing on his face.

Dean looked up at Dante, raising an eyebrow. He didn't seem concerned, neither by Dante's stature, nor his threat. " _Ooooh_ , we got ourselves a hero here," he chuckled, as others of the group snickered again. "Look, Shining Armor, you must be stupid, or completely nuts. You wanna take a fall for a chick, at least pick a girl that's worth getting messed up for."

Dante smirked, amused. "Aw, don't you sound pissed," he mocked in return. "You're so pissed because _you_ couldn’t even impress her," he chuckled. "Let's see what you got then. Why not take on the 'hero'? Everyone loves to see the hero fall, after all."

Tess remained quiet, probably surprised, at him stepping up. Probably embarrassed too and he nearly smirked when she hissed “Don’t talk like I’m not present!” at him.

"Okay, 'hero'," Dean said, popping his knuckles hard.

Before either of the two could react, the entire mob surrounded them tightly as if obeying some subtle sign Dean made and fell upon them like a pack of hungry wolves. Dean pulled out a knuckle-duster from his shirt's pocket and rammed his fist into Dante’s face, while the rest of the bunch closed in, allowing no escape. Dante felt his head snap back as he failed to dodge or parry the hit from sheer surprise. The next thing he knew he was the subject of some of the most violent punching, shoving and kicking that he’d ever seen humans do, and as his head reeled back, he saw a few stones, broken bottles and knives making appearances.

He reeled back though and dodged another swing that swept by, missing his head by inches. In the instant it took him to twist out of the tight spot he was, he saw Tess parry a few hits, cripple a guy with a nasty kick to the jewels and then get knocked onto the ground by a kick from the side that made her stumble back and trip onto the side of the pavement, ending on the ground. Dante grunted quietly, parrying another blow by Dean and then knocked the dumbass back with a blow to the chest. He dodged a few more of these fannysmackers and shoved his way towards Tess.

He felt anger boiling over when he saw someone keeping her pressed down with their foot on the side of her head, rubbing her face against the snow, while another fannysmacker was ready to kick her again. She was trying to throw them off, but with her head pinned down, she couldn't even see. Dante was there in an instant; he pulled his fist back and drove it harshly into the chest of the one who had his foot on Tess' head, knocking him backwards. Another one was knocked flat on his back right after the first, writhing and clutching his crotch when Tess jerked her foot and kicked his loins hard, adding an audible curse to top it off.

Dante forcefully pulled Tess on to him when she tried to stand and collapsed over her, making her stay down and protected her with himself, even as she blurted a surprised gasp. Their resistance had only made the mob more eager to hurt them and he knew he could bear their increased aggression better than she would. Fists, knees, feet and not a few weapons came pummeling down on him but he didn't care, more concerned with shielding Tess and he wrapped his arms around her. A stone clonking against his head hard with a rough sound and drawing blood, was the last straw. Now at knee level with the mob, Dante drew his guns from under his coat and fired off a few rounds, mostly warning shots at first, hoping the gunfire would make them back off.

After the first two shots, the next few bullets pierced leg-flesh and popped a few knees. He didn't intend to have any mercy for these idiots, although he didn't want to kill anyone. Meanwhile, Tess covered her ears as soon as he began firing. From such a close range the sound was deafening. All the while she was uttering protestations at being unable to help, shouting at the mob to stop even though she knew it was futile.

Most of the fannysmackers backed off in a hurry as soon as they realized that the loud sounds were gunshots. Two or three of them fell on their knees or backsides, gripping their wounded legs and groaning in pain. A couple others backed off, limping with blood streaming down from the gunshot wounds and most of those unscathed were fleeing.

Dean had barely missed being shot in the knee, shoving someone else in front of him to take a hit. "Y-you sonofa--!" he bellowed.

Tess finally had enough of being covered like some damsel in distress and shoved Dante off her when they got some breathing room. She then swung her leg and kicked into at face of one of the fannysmackers, who was crouched down, too close to her for comfort, who hadn't been hit. A crack was heard from his nose as his head whipped back with a spurt of blood and he toppled over backwards.

Dante smirked. For a girl, she sure kicked harder than she punched.

"You maniac!" she called to Dante. "Do you want to get killed!? This is not a time to play hero! You are _so_ not going to try to save my ass by taking all the hits yourself and give me a guilt-trip!"

Dante couldn’t help a chuckle even in all that mess they were in. So she did care about him! Tess rammed another kick to the ankles of another guy, making him trip and fall onto one of his fellows, before she pushed Dante off herself with a shove. Still knelt, the shove knocked Dante on his bum, but he didn't drop his guns. Instead, he put them away and knocked someone over by tripping them and jumped up. Most of the gang was running away and retreating into alleys. A couple were still around, encouraged by Dean, who audibly cursed the 'deserters'. Tess was standing behind Dante, panting from the effort. The last person she had hit lay on his back, groaning and holding his throat, where the girl had smacked her foot down on it after knocking him down.

"Had enough, asshole?" Dante taunted Dean. "I can still take you on," he chuckled, a bit malevolently.

Dean glared back, twitching. "You…you fucking little shit!"

In the excitement of the fight, Dante had missed it, but as things came to a pause, he realized that something was wrong. It was subtle at first, then spread abruptly, like a knife cutting through time. It crept up on them, taking everyone by surprise. Everything grew silent and the air felt heavy and gritty all of a sudden. It was like a bubble surrounding them that blocked off every sound. Without reason, the sky darkened out, even if for a mere moment and it seemed like shadows cast over by a mass of clouds rushing overhead passed over them.

He heard Tess' gasp and turned to see her eyes widen and she stumbled, as if something had hit her and looked like she’d stumble. Putting out her hand she grabbed onto his arm and he turned to support her while her other hand reached for her face and pressed against it as she mumbled. She seemed to be in pain and groaned weakly. "This…this feeling-again!"

Dante too felt whatever it was that passed over them and froze up for a moment, his eyes wide. He ignored the gang's presence, focusing on what had swept over them. He knew that feeling. Demons were the last thing they needed right now. Tess’ ‘fit’ looked bad and the cause could be nothing but that feeling he got. Not knowing how that affected her, he pulled her out of the immediate fray, his arm passing over her midsection protectively.

He cast wary glances at the remnants of the mob; they were pulling themselves together, seemingly in a bit of a state of shock from the sudden change in the air. Whatever it was, it had been so strong that even these foolish humans had felt it.

Dante gave Tess a soft shake, speaking with a calm determination. "Tess. Tess, look at me!"

It was useless, because she looked dazed and lost in her own world. Her eyes were wide and empty. Glancing back at the mob, he noticed many of them had a similar dizzy and disoriented look. Something was happening here, but he had no idea what. Interestingly though, unlike the fannysmackers, Tess seemed to be resisting it, whatever it was. When the swarming shadows passed over, fleeing to unknown direction, and the dark dissipated, Dante felt a remaining trace of the aura that had passed over them behind him. Those humans he faced just a moment ago were the source now. Dean and the other people still around seemed shaken as if they had felt something pass. All of them had faces contorted in pain, anguish and… _a pure, insane anger_.

The faintest of traces of demonic influence was coming from them, even though they still looked normal. Dante raised an eyebrow. This looked and felt disturbingly familiar. The last crazy madman he’d seen, who was turning into a demon had given him a similar sensation; and now this.

What was going on in this city?

Tess suddenly looked up, panting, eyes wide. "S-something…passed!" she panted, grasping at the sleeve of Dante's jacket in anguish. "It--it hungers!" she said, shaking her head. "My head hurts." For a moment it looked like she was recovering from her shock and looked at the people around them, also recovering from their daze. "Oh no, Dante, their auras, they're--"

Dante replied in a frustrated tone. "I know. They've gone crazy. I can feel a demonic presence with them; it’s like those damn nutcases! Where'd that thing come from?"

"I-I don't know," she said in a shaky voice as she ran her hand over her face.

She then looked over her side and shrieked, shoving Dante aside as Dean came up behind them both and raised a switchblade over his head, swinging it down where Dante stood, and it struck the wall right next to Tess' head, who gasped in terror at how close it had come.

Dante drew one of his guns and as he did, beat the side of Dean's face with the butt, knocking him backwards. "Do me a favor," he grunted to Tess. "If it means your life, don't save mine!"

He lunged forward at Dean, swinging at his face this time. Dean was hit by the half-demon's fist and stumbled backwards, with blood dripping from his mouth, just as another person grabbed Dante from under the armpits, trying to incapacitate him and stop him from moving; then a third person came on him as well to slow him down and punched Dante's stomach with another knuckleduster. That punch was inhumanly strong and any air in his lungs was forced out and Dante coughed and gasped. There was no doubt in his mind now: That was unmistakably demonic aura behind that blow. Whatever had been happening to those madmen they had seen previously, was definitely happening to these guys too.

He caught glimpse of Tess attempting to go help him but a girl among the gang grabbed her by the hair and she yelped in pain. She grabbed and twisted the arm of the girl that caught her, her nails digging into their skin as she did so. The hostile girl screamed and let go of her hair and the two girls locked hands and grappled it out while another guy lingered, with a broken bottle in hand, as if trying to decide which of the two girls to hit.

Dean recovered from the earlier attack and was now walking toward Dante with the switchblade in hand. Dante felt the rush of demonic nature well up and his eyes glowed a faint red. The amulet around his neck pulsated softly and he struggled to free himself from the gang's grip. The two people holding him though were holding him down with vice-grip like clutches, holding him under the armpits and behind the head that forced his elbows to bend and hold his hands up, making him drop Ivory, which landed on the pavement with a clatter. It was a bit humiliating and very frustrating.

Dean didn't say anything as he approached and but for a completely twisted and paranoid grin that moved up his face, his look was devoid of any emotion. He jerked his hand and stabbed Dante right over the lung.

Tess saw this from the headlock the other girl had subjected her to after overpowering her --the other girl was taller than her and stronger-- while the guy with the broken bottle was approaching, as if to hit her with the bottle. "No! Dante!" she screamed, seeing him get stabbed.

She threw her weight back, against her captor, folded her legs to her chest and kicked hard. She hit the guy with the bottle in the chest, with both feet, knocking him backwards and the force pushed her and the other girl back too. The girl seemed to be losing her footing from that abrupt shove and Tess was trying to throw her off herself by thrashing around and flailing her legs as hard as she could.

Dante groaned the knife carved a painful path through his chest. He winced a bit and then let a grunt as his tormentor twisted the blade sadistically, making him groan and spilling blood. As Dean went to back off in order to deliver another stab, Dante threw himself back and kicked as hard as he could, hitting Dean's chest and sending him flying to land on his ass some feet away. Dante then hung his head and jerked it back, smacking the back of his head into the face of the guy behind him. He felt a crack and the man's grip loosened. With a couple more thrashes, he was free.

He pulled the knife out his chest, held the bloodied end and threw it at Dean, aiming for a limb. Dante was angry beyond belief, but he still had enough self-control to not want to kill the poor bastard if he was indeed controlled. The knife hit Dean's knee with a hair-rising sound and he screamed in pain. He then rammed his fist into the face of one of the guys that had restrained him, knocking him flat on his back, out cold for good. Blood was streaming from his broken nose.

Meanwhile Tess finally got loose from the girl's hold. She yanked her head forward in a decisive move, leaving some hair in the girl's hand; she ducked forward, placing her hands on the ground and kicked up with her feet, smacking the girl in the jaw, before standing straight again and the other girl fell flat on her back with a shout. Tess furnished her with a kick to the face that knocked her out cold. Then she dodged the guy who held the bottle, spinning quickly and getting behind him. She hit the small of his back with a kick then swept up a rock and hit him on the back of his head, and he dropped to his knees.

Dante was surprised by the last guy that had been holding him earlier, who proceeded to ram his shoulder into Dante, hitting the spot where the knife stabbed into and revealing a brass knuckleduster on his fist, which he directed to Dante's jaw. It snapped from the hit and a chunk of skin went missing, too. The slayer stumbled back and drew his guns, planting a bullet in each of the maniac's open palms before lunging forward and smacking the butt of Ivory against the guy's cheekbone, who spun around awkwardly and landed flat on his face, where he lay groaning, weakly crawling backwards on his bleeding arms.

He turned and saw Tess, having taken out the last of her attackers, made for him and passed by Dean, who was still crouched. He suddenly let an inhuman screech and grabbed her ankle, knocking her on her knees and dragged her in his direction. His eyes were turning yellow and he grinned even more maniacally.

She screamed, probably more from the shock of the intense demon essence coming from Dean than the fall, her eyes wide at the realization that the fannysmacker was rapidly assimilating into a demon. Even Dante could tell he was going faster than any of the others would, as if he was willingly giving in to this change. The creature dragged her closer and Tess rammed an open-palm punch to his chin to keep his face away from her.

Dante put away his guns then punched his own jaw on the opposite side. A bone-shattering crack ran through the street as the jaw set back in place, and Dante held his chin, grunting in pain for a moment before walking over to Tess. He only took a moment to take out one last idiot that thought of stopping him, by raising his arm and simply letting the fool ram his head against the stone-hard muscle of his arm.

 _Dumbasses,_ he thought negligently. _And why the hell isn't she using that fire thing of hers—do I have to save her all the time?_ he went on in his head, surprised to realize he really didn't mind doing so—this one time. _Oh, he’s probably too close to her. She’d burn herself too._

With Dean's attention on Tess, having pinned her down while she resisted with flails and kicks, Dante made to punt the gang leader's head. He charged at full speed and reared back his left leg. Dean didn't notice him until it was too late. He looked up at Dante with eyes completely yellow now and his mad grin insisted even as a mighty kick landed on his face with a loud sound of shattering bones. His grip on Tess loosened and he got knocked backwards, on his back, screaming hoarsely. He lay there for a moment, then suddenly jumped back up onto his feet, hunched and panting, and still grinning in a crazy manner, while crackling sounds came from his hands, as his joints swelled and contorted while his nails rapidly grew into claws, and his jaw dislocated completely as his teeth swelled into ugly maws.

Dante serenely helped Tess up to her feet and gently pushed her behind him, drawing his guns again. He spoke in a confident, dark tone. "Stay behind me. Don't do anything stupid."

Tess just nodded in compliance, for once, her mouth slightly open in shock, while she noticed that besides Dean, most of the other fannysmackers had now scattered, or lay on their backs, out of it. Any demonic aura from them had been gone.

“This is insane…” she muttered.

Dean cackled, eyes and face gone mad and suddenly he dashed for Dante, quite literally pouncing onto him and stabbing the claws of one hand into his shoulder, while pulling back his other arm to deliver another blow.

Dante howled in pain as the demon's claws penetrated his skin. _Poison?_ he thought as a hot pain spread from that wound. As the dark entity formerly known as Dean reared back his other hand, Dante chuckled, digging the barrel of Ebony into his diaphragm.

"Later" he said angrily, and pulled the trigger, sending several bullets to blast through Dean's lower chest.

The demon let a screechy howl and was knocked back by the force, threw his head back, and fell onto its back, thrashing around madly. Just as he seemed to settle he let another screech, his skin turning completely gray and scaly as he leaped at them again. But a burst of fire caught him in midair, knocked him back again, scorched and burned to the bone, onto the ground. A wispy black entity rose up rapidly from the burned remains and dissolved into the air.

Dante looked to his side to see Tess' arm held up; she had caused the last burst of fire that finished it off, and was panting briefly, still in shock. "Sorry. I couldn't bear seeing you get hurt more," she muttered in a small voice while glancing at the remains of Dean "I never liked him anyway," she added, combing her hair off her face, frustrated.

Dante just chuckled, putting his guns away and grabbing her hand. They made a mad dash away from the scene of the battle. Dante was concerned someone might happen upon them or the rest of the gang might return and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that stuff. She followed without a problem and they only stopped when they turned a corner a good few blocks away from the scene. They stopped, panting, and Dante dropped against a wall, breathing heavy and relaxed.

"Didn’t like seeing me hurt, huh? I knew you loved me," he half-teased.

Tess stopped with her hands on her knees beside him, blushing slightly and trying to hide it. "No. But I _-_ I _like you_ " she said with a pause.

Dante tilt his head back. "No worries. Wouldn't have done it if I hadn't taken a liking to you," he said, standing straight and grunting.

Most of his wounds were gone and his clothes didn’t even look worse for wear much. Just his shoulder was sore and he rubbed and flexed it as he started walking away with Tess after she stood straight too.

She kept looking at the ground, embarrassed. "Thanks for that too. It’s…good to know that someone doesn't think I'm so much of a shrew," she blurted, her hand coming up to pester some of her hair, slowly twining a strand of hair around her finger. She looked at his shoulder guiltily. "Do you wanna go back? Roy, he could-" she suggested.

Dante smirked at her, still rubbing his shoulder. His shirt was a little blood-stained under the jacket, but the wound had stopped bleeding. Whatever was on the demon's claws had left behind some killer pain, though.

"Nah. Let's get something to eat first. That just made me hungrier," he said. _Worried about me, aren't we? You look so damn different when you're not picking a fight,_ he thought.

She stared back at him, a bit concerned and a bit bewildered, but shrugged it off. "Okay, if you say so." she said, glancing back while walking, at the fallen people who lay there groaning and especially what had been Dean before he turned into a demon. She frowned, and then her look changed to concerned.

"I can't believe seeing that idiot die like that doesn't make me flip. I thought I’d freak out but all I can think of is…he deserved that, stupid bastard,” she blurted. “Oh wow, I’m starting to sound like you.”

Dante laughed. "Good! So where'd you know that idiot from, anyway?"

"He used to live in the building, like you, couple years ago, with some friends of his. Only they caused more trouble in the end. I kinda liked him when he first came in. He made me laugh. But then I saw what kind of an idiot he really was and all his antics stopped being funny," she replied, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I was serious about the whorehouse bit, he was awful.”

"Did he really try to get in your pants?"

She blushed a little bit. "Not sure, I wasn't paying any attention to that kind of stuff at the time. I think so, though. Why?"

"What a loser," Dante chuckled, following closely behind Tess. His shoulder was finally fully healed, and a lot of the pain had gone. "Where'd you learn all those flips and stunts, by the way?"

"Oh, that stuff… Roy taught me little bit," she admitted, a little bit proud but still modestly shy. "He decided that if I wouldn’t let him follow me everywhere, he might as well teach me how to watch my back. I think he mostly did it just to end the fights we had every time I caught him following."

"Roy taught you? Didn’t think he’d want you getting into that sorta thing. Gotta give the old bat some credit, you did pretty good, for a girl," Dante said, smirking.

"I suppose I have a knack for this stuff, that's all," she replied, blushing a little from the compliment. "I'm far from perfect. I’m glad you proved that you’re not such a caveman after all, back there,” she added slyly and he smirked.

“Yeah, I’m a real knight in shining armor, aren’t I,” he chuckled.  

They finally made it to their original destination; the pizza restaurant looked pretty dignified and not entirely dingy, yet it was obviously a cheap diner. However, they both stepped inside with a measure of cheerfulness and Dante even joked that this was the reward for prevailing over that gang. It made Tess chuckle and he felt pretty good about seeing her laugh.


	10. Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD This continues to be embarrassing but I love it.

They spent a couple of hours at the pizza joint, having a good dinner and occasionally dropping some discussion about what they’d seen and how it might’ve connected to what was happening. They agreed that much of the city felt like it was spiraling downwards into a mire of violence. Tess expressed concern that Dante was being affected, but he laughed it off.

When they stepped out again, the sun had gone down and they were both full and content. Dante looked especially pleased, patting his stomach with a serene smile. That large-sized pizza with tomatoes and extra garlic and a side order fries probably had hit the spot for him. Upon seeing the generous loads on the plates, he declared that he wasn't going to doubt her taste--in eateries at least--again.

The crisp, cold air outside made him stretch and flex his arms. "That was awesome," he quipped, rubbing his belly. "All I can think about now is getting a good, long night's sleep!"

Tess smirked, coming out after him. "I still can't believe how much you can eat, it's like there's a bottomless pit down your stomach!" she chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm your polar opposite! I downed like, six slices. How many did you have? One? Two? But you sure made fast work of that chocolate cake!" he teased, turning around and gently poking her belly. "Maybe you _can_ get some meat on them bones!"

Tess recoiled from the poke, covering her stomach with her arms, laughing and faintly blushing. "H-hey! So I like the cake they make here! Sue me!" she chuckled as they walked along.

They were halfway home when the wind, which up till then was but a breeze, picked up yet again, howling softly as it passed through the buildings. It was a very cold gust of wind, with a distinctly otherworld feel to it. Dante didn’t notice and just stretched again, finding it refreshing.

He scratched the back of his neck, walking ahead without concern. "Let's get home. I wanna get Roy to look at my bloody shoulder and go to bed."

Tess however, couldn't hear him, lagging behind a bit. She hung her head and palmed her face, seeking support against a building wall with her other hand.

"Not again," she groaned.

The familiar sensation crept up on her again and she shook her head trying to chase it away. She didn't want to have another vision now.

_Aaah…Why do I always get these just when I think I’m alright? Can’t I ever have a moment’s peace?!_

Her ears buzzed with a sound of frequency snow, only sharper and harsher; grim, throaty voices were screaming. She couldn't even see. Her vision blurred into a sheet of black, interrupted by flashes of hellish creatures and visions of a hallway, dark, crumbling and rotting. She felt vertigo, like falling through a deep hole, while the out-world voices kept screaming in her ears; she finally felt a sudden, cold sensation, like hitting water after a fall and the eerie silence of sinking through a body of water.

“Dante!” she managed to blurt and crumbled against the wall, trying to stand. She panicked for an instant because she didn’t know where he was.

Dante had wandered ahead, not noticing she wasn’t following. “What?” he asked casually and looked over. "Hey what's wrong?" he asked and jogged back to her. "You ok?" he insisted louder when she didn't respond.

He got a funny feeling when he got near her but he couldn't pin down what it was. It was sort of like the sensation he got around demons but at the same time it was very different. But there was something certainly something like a trace of demonic essence in the air and he felt that it was what was affecting her.

Without thinking, he put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently to try and snap her out of it. His eyes widened the moment his fingers touched her, it was almost like he'd touched a bare electric wire. That strange sensation he had became certain. It did feel strange, not human but it had pain and anguish in it. Demons never made him feel that kind of thing. She gave a tiny gasp of shock when he touched her.

 _Shit—is this her freaky ass sense going off? Fuck, did I screw something up? I'm half demon after all, maybe my aura screwed up something,"_ he thought and started to panic briefly.

Tess could barely stand and she knew her eyes must’ve been wide and blank while her voice was shaking. She could see now but everything was smothered in a haze as a vision was trying to take over. She felt like drowning in a mire of some kind of stifling power; the air was thick with it.

"I-It’s here…again!" she rambled and halfway ignored him, turning towards the street, which happened to be leading straight to the park they were last time when they saw Chernobog. "It's calling…calling…speaking to its master."

She heard Dante curse quietly and then he grew serious. She felt him taking hold of her chin to make her look at him. When he spoke again he sounded awfully close.

"Who is calling their master, Tess?" he demanded calmly.

She stared at him but wasn't seeing a human. She wasn't sure _what_ she was seeing but faintly knew that Dante was holding her from falling into the abyss, or just over on her face, whatever she felt she was going to fall into. Those red eyes had to be his. She could barely hear him over the blare of the eerie voices screaming.

"D-demon…Cold-so cold. Can't breathe," her voice died out and her eyes seemed to empty. They fluttered shut; she almost lost her balance and consciousness briefly, but she regained it suddenly with a gasp, her eyes snapped open and she looked scared. Her sight was clear again. The vision had passed.

"It was--that thing! From the park…that demon. Roy said his name was…was Chernobog! That thing—it-it’s back," she blurted, staring back at Dante, whose face was very close to hers and his hand is still on her chin.

He looked worried and they paused for a moment, staring at each other. Then Tess squeaked and backed away. Dante seemed to have gotten carried away with either curiosity about the demon’s movements or concern with her and got close, looking straight into her eyes. He too backed off when she did, and his eyes widened a bit and he very nearly blushed. But he composed himself fast and moved to her side to offer her support, for which she was grateful since her knees felt wobbly.

"Chern-o-thingy, huh? I knew that thing wouldn't stay away. Where?" he asked.

Tess still felt dizzy from the vision that rammed into her head, so she didn't have the sense to object at being held up by him. She was pretty out of it and so leaned into him while holding his arm.

"The-the park…by the lake. My God…what…what was that? I've seen things before, but-but never this clearly," she groaned. "It was so scary. And that hallway, ugh, gave me the creeps."

Dante clicked his tongue impatiently as they walked back. "Can't do anything about it now. You're messed up and I don' know where to go look. I'm going wait until he makes a move," he said.

Tess was too jaded to protest. She felt dizzy and her head was throbbing. His assertiveness didn't leave much room to object anyway. She reluctantly stumbled along, feeling grateful he was helping out.

 _Sometimes he's so…different,_ she thought. _Like a proper damn hero. Ugh, why did I even think of that just now? He's just…worried? That’s a first from someone other than Roy. I guess he…likes me. I don't think anyone ever has. I'm such a bitch sometimes, it’s no wonder. I'm surprised someone likes me. I kinda like him back too. Would anyone calls this_ 'friends' _, I wonder,_ she thought. _Or are we just too fucked up for that?_

"Don't tell Roy that I saw this. He's going to freak out and spill the beans to the old hag. I don't want Grams to know," she said miserably. "She's just going to throw a tantrum, declare me totally nuts and lock me up in the house forever."

He nodded briskly but she could tell he wasn’t paying attention.

“Dante, I’m okay. Stop acting like Roy,” she sighed. Walking made her feel better.

“I’m not,” he blurted. “But…damn, Twig. That sight of yours is messing you up. You’re really not cut for this shit…”

“Stop that, don’t even go there,” she said. “We already had a fight over that. This is different, I’m fine.”

But she knew she wasn’t. She felt nauseous and like she was about to get ill.

To her surprise, Dante said nothing and they walked on back home. When they got there, Dante opened the door for her. He hadn’t let go of her all the way there and she felt awkward. He walked her to the stairs and she sat down.

“Feel better?” he asked.

Tess held her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her knees and nodded briefly. "I do now," she said as she breathed out. "Man, whatever I felt sure knocked the wind out of me, it’s the strongest thing I’ve experienced. I feel like a truck ran me over or something."

Roy, in his cat form, poked his head out of the kitchen, when he heard the door open. "Oh, hello there, you're back early--yikes, what happened? Tess, you look terrible and Dante, you look rather battered too," the cat said, trotting up to them, his tail held high.

Tess looked at Dante with a pleading look. _'Don't tell!'_ her look read. Dante glanced at her and then answered coolly.

"We went out for some pizza and got jumped by a fannysmacking gang." He looked back at Tess, but still spoke to Roy. "I tried to keep her out of trouble, but we got a little roughed up. She's beat, though."

“Yeah, just tired,” she added.

Roy growled slightly, his ears folding down in disgust and shook his head in disdain. "Fannysmackers! Good God, they're getting worse every day that passes! This whole city is! It’s spiraling into mayhem," the cat growled, trotting over to the kitchen again, furious. "Go get some rest, both of you, it’s getting late!"

Tess looked at Dante again. This time she smiled, a little bit, sort of tiredly. She didn't speak, for fear Roy would hear her, but her lips moved. _'Thank you'_ she mouthed.

Dante just bowed his head lightly and smiled a little. “Need help going up, Twig?” he offered. He’d said her nickname softly, rather than his normal teasing and held out a helping hand, his icy blue gaze meeting her tired, drained eyes.

Tess shook her head. "Nah, I can walk to my room okay. I still got a bit of my dignity left,” she chuckled. “Besides, if Roy or Grams sees us they'd get the wrong idea. Not that it takes much for that to happen."

She blushed a tiny bit there at the end, but heaved herself up, holding on to the banister of the stairs, and slowly made her way up the stairs. She stopped a bit, turned back to him and said "I kinda had fun, goin' out with you today." Her smile turned a little sly. "I guess you're not all that bad. Well, 'night!"

With that she headed up the rest of the stairs in a hurry and went into her room.

Dante stood in silence, not sure what to say to that underhanded compliment. Before he heard her door shut, he called up the stairs: "Hey, if we’re gonna get in trouble like that, we may as well forgo the dating!”

He chuckled, rather satisfied. _At this point, I don’t think I’d care if they got the wrong idea,_ he thought.

Then he made his way to the kitchen to see Roy. There were a couple of things he wanted to ask the old familiar. Surely enough, Roy was in the kitchen, as a cat still, curled on one of the chairs and appeared to be fuming. His tail hung off the chair, swishing from side to side, frustrated. He turned his large, green eyes onto Dante once the teenager stepped in the kitchen.

“Hmm…no rest for the wicked, eh?” he asked smoothly.

“Not yet,” Dante chuckled.

"Nevertheless…I didn't thank you for looking after Tess," he said, with a pause. "I guess I've underestimated you. But you have a look on your face like you want to talk about something. Go on, I'm quite at leisure," he went on.

Dante nodded with a smile that read _'No thanks needed'_. But then he scratched the side of his face. "Do I really have to do the talking cat thing?"

Roy chuckled, swaying his tail a little and half-closing his eyes like cats do when they're pleased. "Heheheh…yes, you must. Cat is closer to my real nature, I'm afraid. I’m rather fond of this form," he said, with a faint chuckle under his whiskers.

"Whatever," Dante sighed.

He took a chair, swinging it around and sitting on it with its back facing forward. He crossed his arms over the top of the back. "What would you do if someone asked you to keep a secret, but that secret might end up dangerous if it stayed a secret?"

Roy looked puzzled. "Hmm…secrets. They’re always dangerous, one way or another. I understand the need to keep the secret…but you have to weigh it against the potential danger. Ultimately, it’s up to you,” he purred. “But you have to decide what’s more important.”

The young slayer nodded slowly. "So you're saying that if any dangers caused by the secret are taken care of, it's not worth telling anymore, right?"

The cat looked at him intently. "More or less, I suppose. What's with this, all of a sudden, is something the matter?"

Dante smiled mischievously. "Nope! According to you, everything’s fine!”

He got up and prepared to walk out of the kitchen.

Roy sighed and Dante stopped. As Dante expected, Roy could tell than something _was_ going on.

"Dante…look, it's against my principals to meddle into others' business. As things are, I'd rather not force it out of you. Do as you please--just be careful. I'm not a sappy character, but I'd rather not see you dead. Friendly advice, boy: Don't get yourself into something too overwhelming, you hear me?"

Dante bit back a laugh. Aw, so the grouchy old cat liked him! He replied in a joking manner. "I'm sorry, what did you say about the, uh…what?" he said.

He still bore that mischievous grin that told Roy that the teenager had already made up his mind about the situation. He looked carefully at the cat. Yes, he said he wasn't gonna force it out of him, but Dante was also intentionally insubordinate. In short, the cat felt that he deserved a kick in the ass.

Roy just rolled his eyes. "Bah, you're impossible. No wonder you get to Tess' nerves all the time. You're near depleting _my_ patience. Now excuse me…cat or no cat, I still have work to do. Magda is calling me," he said and gently hopped off the chair. He scuttled out the kitchen, passing by Dante's legs and going for the door of the owner's side. The door creaked open by itself, then closed behind the cat.

Chuckling to himself, Dante slowly trudged up the stairs to his room to relax for a while. He relaxed in his room, lying on his bed with his hands behind his head and his feet hanging off the edge. When things grew quiet and he felt confident, he donned his red coat and secured his sword to his back. Shutting the door behind him, he made sure to be particularly quiet on his way back down the stairs, remembering which steps were safe. The lobby was empty and he smiled. Roy must’ve been busy. He made his way out the building. He shut the door gently behind him and it clicked softly. The cold air pierced his clothes and dug into his skin but he welcomed its refreshing presence. A little chilly wind was just what he needed to get him psyched up for a good fight.

The night was quiet. Dante walked under flickering streetlights and past empty, quiet stores. Even the lone bar he walked past was practically empty and unusually forlorn. It had been snowing all the while and there was a thicker layer of fresh snow on the ground, bunched along the sidewalk and it crunched underfoot as he walked. He was almost impressed at how quiet the night was when it wasn’t even that late yet, and the cold wasn’t all that bad.

But he could just feel it in the air. There was a sense of dread hanging about the city, making people uneasy and forcing them in. It was what was driving people mad. Dante knew it in his gut that it was the root of the problem.

Walking through the cold night's air toward the park, Dante wondered if he should be doing this. After a moment's thought of how fate had brought him here, his insecurity shifted from his plans to the company he had—or rather the lack there of. But he couldn't have taken Tess with him. She wasn’t ready, despite her protestations and didn't have to be involved in this.

He was certain he could handle a fight with a guy whose name resembled an Amish chore. His confidence rose higher and higher as he thought about it. Before he knew it, he came to the stone wall of the park and made his way to the front gates. Opening them with a loud creak, he walked into the field and started making his way for the lake where his last dealing with Chernobog had taken place.

The gate slammed shut behind him with a loud bang. Even if he tried to force it open, he wouldn't be able to and he knew it. An unknown power held it firmly shut. The same power would stop any attempt to escape. Shrill screams and odd sounds came from about. Out of nowhere, as if breaking through the time-space fiber, a mob of Abyss demons came forth, surrounding the boy, wielding sickles and looking threatening with their red and grey bodies, all poised for immediate attack. They charged him, growling and seeking to kill him.

Dante let a smile paint itself on his lips. As the first demon attacked, he sidestepped and pulled out Ivory, planting a bullet into the demon's face at point-blank range, knocking it backwards. Taking up Ebony now as well, he aimed at another demon readying a charge for him and fired malevolently, shouting over the cracks of his guns, "I was expecting something a little more difficult!"

The Abysses didn't seem deterred by the fall of one of their number and kept attacking, swinging their sickles at him, jumping into the air and trying to strike from above, or sinking into the earth and trying to leap up from under him.

Dante holstered his guns and quickly studied his surroundings. He saw three Abysses in the air and another half dozen swinging at him from all directions. The slayer quickly jumped at an Abyss demon swinging at him and before its scythe buried in his flesh, he stepped on its face, jumping and back flipping, kicking off to a spin over his head.

As he did, he kicked an Abyss in the air, knocking it into one of its comrades. The scythes on the ground hit nothing but air and overlapped one-another. Dante landed on the scythe on top of them all, trapping all their weapons beneath his feet. Just as he thought he was doing so well, he'd realized he'd forgotten about the last Abyss above his head. By the time he realized, however, it was too late. He heard a squish and felt an icy pain where his heart was. The slayer looked down; of course, a scythe was sticking out of his chest, the attacker standing behind him.

The look on his face wasn't shock or terror but suppressed anger. Turning quickly, he kicked the demon in the face with a roundhouse, sending it flying some ten feet back. He reached behind his back with one hand, and pressed the blade sticking out of his chest with the other. He slowly pulled the scythe from his chest, grunting in pain as he did so. Finally, after some moments of struggling, he managed to take it out, making a large amount of blood spurt out of his chest and stain the snow-covered ground. His body began to work on healing his wound instantly. In one powerful stroke, he swept the scythe he now held at the demons' feet, knocking all that were adjacent to him to the ground.

The slayer congratulated himself silently for being so cunning and, of course, for his improvisation skills. Finally deciding to draw Rebellion from his back, he grinned from ear to ear. Now it was his turn to play offence. He charged a group of Abysses and focused all of his power into his swing, slicing at their torsos. He sent all but three flying and the three that remained fell to the floor, temporarily disabled.

He shouted, "Yeah, c'mon!" excitedly.

The amulet beneath his shirt pulsated violently and the slayer charged another Abyss, thrusting the tip of his sword at it and sending it back some five feet. Dante then jumped, landing on it. Using his right foot, he pushed against the ground harshly and rode the demon's body like a surfboard over the slick snow, slicing and hacking at other demons as he passed. Again, however, he became too cocky and another scythe rammed into his abdomen, this time from the front. The cold pain made his rage skyrocket. The demonic bloodshed triggered a reaction in his subconscious and gave him tunnel vision. His eyes sank into a crimson red color and he ripped out the blade from his chest, breaking it off the pole of the main weapon, then violently charged the Abyss that attacked him.

The last Abyss snarled and charged him as well, sensing the demonic power in him that only made its aggression peak. It swung its broken sickle at him, hard, aiming for his neck to decapitate him.

Dante didn't even bother counter attacking. He held up his hand and caught the sickle, pulling it hard to drag the demon closer. When the demon jerked closer, Dante thrust the tip of his blade through the demon and lifted it off the ground-still impaled. He tilted his sword and as he did, the demon slid down his blade, screeching. When it reached the hilt, Dante took up Ebony and shot it in the eye, point-blank. He then swung his sword, sending the Abyss off the blade and flying some twenty feet away, to hit the ground with such force that Dante felt it where he was standing. He panted and noticed his gun hand had splattered demon blood on it. He looked at it, his eyes still red and that twisted, satisfied devilish smirk still on his face. There was no way of explaining the sheer rush that fight had given him. A rather new experience, actually. It felt like every time he allowed himself to sink into his demonic nature, he was drawn into it more, learning new ways to control it. And the new pleasures it brought along. With the negligence of a madman, he raised his hand to his mouth and licked the demon's blood off.

Right then, a faint chuckle came to Dante's ears. It seemed like it was coming from right next to his ear but no one stood near him. The chuckle was a chilling kind of sound, a deep, but clear voice that sounded human but for its slow and cold, calculated formality.

" _Yesssss_...it feels good, does it not, Dante?" the voice then said. "This rage and bloodshed? This power and violence? It’s your nature, is it not?"

Dante's head jerked and he held up Ebony again, poised to shoot. His crimson eyes glanced about the darkness, following the same course as the barrel of his gun. He grunted in a malevolent voice: "Come on out, pal. If you don't, I know I'll enjoy me a midnight hunt!"

He knew that had to be Chernobog. He put his gun away and gripped his sword so tight that his knuckles turned white and swung it over, allowing it to rest on his shoulder, loosely.

"Aaah, but you are a demon too, are you not? Whyever would you hurt your own kin?" the voice asked, in a rather soft manner. It almost sounded like silk over a sheet of ice. "Don not lie. I know what you are. Though I know not how this is, it matters little. My master and I find you amusing. A demon child who wishes to pass as a human, how quaint," it chuckled lowly.

The voice continued to taunt him but its owner would not show himself, _yet_. Dante darted his sight around the empty, freezing park. Still, only darkness came to his senses. Darkness and the cold and chilling voice of the master demon.

"Why don’tcha come out and find out why, chicken!" he growled in a furious voice. The mockery was making him angry.

He could hardly feel the sub-zero wind against his pale body. He hardly registered the overwhelming silence. His focus was on one thing and one thing only: Dante was out for _blood_. The demon out there merely chuckled and it rang from all around him. The snowflakes slowly danced their way down from the sky, the wind making them frisk and dance around before settling to the ground, atop more snow. The lights in the park were weak, and flickering, about to go out. There was nothing there but darkness and cold, all filled with the unnerving presence of demonic influence.

The demon spoke again, this time it sounded as if he stood nearby. "So, is that why you have come? You wish to challenge me?" he asked, mock innocently.

Dante grinned. The voice sounded like it came from behind him. In a lighting-quick attempt to settle this job, the slayer drew Ebony so fast it would have seemed to simply appear in his hand. He turned, his coat and hair whipping around with him and fired five rounds to where he thought the voice's source was. But the demon was never there. Dante's bullets cut nothing but air and snow as they flew. Chernobog chuckled louder, mocking the slayer.

"Is that it, boy? You wish to kill me? Oh, ambitious desire. Is it because you think yourself worthy of me?" he asked, taunting the boy and then his voice dropped into a laughing mockery. "Or is it because you want to protect that...delightfully fiery little friend of yours? 'Twig', you call her? Surely you must have noticed. We've taken a _liking_ to her."

Dante growled, gnashing his teeth and putting his gun away. He wiped his eye free of some snow while thinking it was silly of him to give in to the demon's mind games. "Why bother with a weak human? Pick on someone your own size! Though, I gotta say, I didn't expect anything special from a guy named 'Chern-the-butter!'" he grunted and flashed a devilish grin as the whites of his eyes remained filled with black.

Now the demon laughed hard, thoroughly amused. His laugh and sarcastic tone came from the other side. "You are arrogant, boy, but it suits you. Yes, she is weak, a feeble human. But that blood of hers makes her so, _so_ precious. Wiccans with such a unique power are so rare. Rare enough for even the Underworld will be stirred for their sake."

Then the voice came from elsewhere again. "There are many forms of power, boy, and you have yet to know them all--and you never will. That girl's father was ours; she is ours to claim, why do you care? Is it perhaps that she means something to you, hmm?" he mocked, as if the idea amused and disgusted him at the same time.

Dante smirked as he stood straight. The bullshitting gave his adrenaline time to subside and the demonic influence started to drain from his eyes. "Yeah, she does! She owes me and I'll be damned if you kill her before she pays me back!" he called out in his usual badass tone. Momentarily he became concerned with what the creature was saying but it was short lived as his excitement for the prospective battle overtook his thinking.

Suddenly a cold blast of snow and wind hit him, as the cold, cruel laugh echoed to his ears again. The next thing Dante knew, Chernobog stood right behind his back and three frozen, stiff claws lay heavy on the slayer's shoulder as the massive demon bent over him slightly. The claws over Dante's shoulder were bitterly frozen and a thin layer of ice formed on Dante's shoulder as it lay there. As Dante glanced back to see the demon, he saw the terrible face and how its wings were folded gracefully in a manner that the tops came around his neck and made them look like they formed a cape of sorts, while his horrific tail swayed lazily.

The great demon lowered his head near the boy's ear and taunted him. "A dead witch is of no use. But a slave...oh, there are so many uses. I'm sure _you've_ thought of a few," he sneered.

Dante grit his teeth, blurting out a shout as the frozen claws sat on his shoulder and the cold shocked him with bone-chilling pain. Without thinking, Dante pulled away, turned abruptly, balled a fist and sent a left hook from hell at Chernobog's face. Chernobog's head whipped back as Dante's fist connected to the granite-colored, hard skin of the demon. After his fist connected the demon's face, Dante held his hand, shaking it as if he'd just punched stone.

The demon laughed, cracking his jaw, revealing row upon row of sharp, pointed teeth. "You are weak, child. And a fool," he said, then swung his long arm in turn, slapping Dante negligently with the back of his clawed hand.

The blunt backhand smashed into the side of Dante’s face. Frost formed over his cheek where the hand contacted his skin and the boy felt himself launched off his feet and hurled onto the snow-capped ground. That guy sure hit hard. Flying some ten to twelve meters backward and skidding in the snow, Dante writhed in pain...but still shouted obscenities!

"You mother-fuckin' ice-princess!" he shouted.

The demon just chuckled, taking its time to walk up to him, clawed feet making subtle and thudding noises as they crunched the snow. "Where is all that resolve, all that rage you showed earlier, boy? Or is your true power not worthy of me?" he called, negligently raising an arm to form jagged ice shards in midair and hurled them towards Dante.

Dante’s eyes popped open wide as he used what was left of his immediate strength to roll out of the way of the ice shards. He found an absurd delight in rolling through snow despite the danger he was in. Breathing heavily and feeling his head still ringing from that backhand, Dante had no choice but to try and struggle to his feet to face what would, possibly, kill him tonight.

Chernobog snorted in contempt and suddenly he was right in Dante's face, cold and uncaring with solid white eyes piercing the teenager's. He rammed a massive fist in Dante's stomach, sending him backwards against a tree. He crashed into the thick trunk, cracking it and making the tree fall in a flurry of powder snow. Before he could manage to stand straight, a subsequent punch from the demon threw him to the side on the ground. Before he could even lift his head, the demon stomped down his clawed foot on Dante's arm, almost snapping the bone and glared down at him in contempt.

"Hmph, a feeble weakling! You'd become a nuisance but you're nothing more than a filthy human insect, needing to be crushed. You are foolish, with a strong desire to die. Why do you bother with the witch so persistently? It’s her we want."

While the demon battered him around, a rush of worry and guilt filled his heart. He choked and coughed, desperate for air from the demon's blow that had blown the wind right out of him and he was certain at least one rib had cracked. However, he was still able to scream loud as the demon's foot pressed his arm against the ground again and he heard a soft crack. To make things worse, Chernobog’s foot had claws that tore through the skin and drew blood, turning the snow under him rose. That fuelled Dante’s anger and his demonic instincts that sensed bloodshed. Humiliated and full of wrath for it, his eyes grew red and his strength seemed to return and swell but instead of just shoving Chernobog off he struggled to rather control himself and actually focus his abilities rather than just thrash around.

He shut his eyes and grabbed at the demon’s foot, trying to push it off, grunting. Chernobog sneered and forming some more ice-shards, this time in his hands, stabbed them into Dante's arms, pinning him down before he could draw a gun or sword. Dante let a pained and angry shout, followed by a vulgar insult. This bastard demon was playing with him!

"Yes… _yessss_ , fight! Struggle, try… Show me your power, child. I will be very disappointed if you really prove to be a weakling!" the demon sneered.

Dante's eyes opened suddenly and a very strange trait made itself apparent. In the past, his crimson gaze was nothing more than his eyes turning red. Now, he seemed to have developed cat-like pupils and they dilated according to the light as he stared into Chernobog's lifeless, cruel eyes while the sclera had turned black. Baring his human teeth at the demon like a dog would its fangs, Dante bent his leg and kicked the demon in the chest with such force that the recoil left an imprint of Dante’s outline in the muddy ground. Chernobog was shoved back grunting and stared back at Dante's inhuman eyes, who forced one arm off the ground, allowing the shard to go all the way through it with an angry snarl.

Chernobog recovered and just as he was about to take his anger out on the teenager, a condensed ball of fire the size of a soccer ball came hurling like a comet over the snow. It passed right over Dante and illuminated him briefly, then slammed into Chernobog's face. The contact of the sphere with the demon was ugly. The icy skin burned and fizzled like water coming in contact with a hot surface and he let a hoarse screech, jumping back and thrashing in utter pain, his hands over his face. He stumbled backwards, thrashing about and his massive tail whipped from side to side randomly, violently slamming into a small tree and snapping its trunk in two.

Dante stared and then tilt his head back to see what was coming up from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	11. Payoffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the children make a good effort to get themselves killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your crackers out, cheese is coming.

Tess came running lightly over the snow with a very determined look on her face under the hood of her coat and stood over Dante. She bent down and with an abrupt move, pulled the ice shard from his arm that pinned him down, wincing as she did so.

"You are _so_ stupid," she muttered but hushed when she saw his eyes. She looked worried about what she saw in them.

Dante was so engrossed in the rush of the battle that he grunted angrily at her, as if she had no right interrupting. "You stupid girl! Why can't you stay the fuck away? I had him right where I wanted him!" He jumped up and without looking back, he ran after Chernobog with as fast as he could muster, calling over his shoulder at her: "I'm trying to fucking protect you!"

But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't keep up with the fleeing demon, and it vanished into the blizzard, howling and groaning in pain. Soon after starting the chase, Dante came to a halt when he was sure there was no longer any sign of Chernobog. His eyes drained of red and he tripped over his feet in the vicious flurry of snow and bumped into a tree trunk. He pushed off it, furious at losing sight of his target. He punched his fist against the tree violently, shaking it violently and blowing some splinters off it, grunting in anger.

“Shit!!” he bellowed.

Tess was following him in concern and when she caught up and saw him stumble and behave so…so _childishly,_ she got mad, especially after he called her a ‘stupid girl’. So _that_ was her thanks for coming all the way out here after him? He called her childish and weak and now he was the one acting like an overgrown baby. She stomped right up to him and-- _kicked_ him straight in the ass, sending him face first into the snow.

"You fool! Is that all you're good for!? Frets and rants and shouting nonsense! You're pathetic! And you say _I'm_ not up for all this! You're such a hypocrite! Get up! Get up and pick your balls off the floor! Are you going to roll there like a dog all night while that…that _thing_ comes out to kill us?!" she shouted.

It was sheer surprise that sent Dante forward into the snow from that kick. He landed on his knees in the snow and that snapped him out of his frustration. It didn’t _actually_ hurt but it was the last thing he expected, along with that rant of hers. Rubbing his lower back, he rolled over, groaning loudly, almost as if to drown out her rant, which proved futile. Her tongue-lashing burrowed into his head. He just stood up, looking back at her after she finished barking at him. There was not one bit of anger in his eyes; only surprise and weirdly, _embarrassment_ , as he tried to avoid eye contact with the shrew, speechless.

Speechless, because he realized she had a point. He’d lost his head, again. Just like Roy had said he would, if he wasn’t careful. The old man’s warnings came ringing to his head again. They would haunt him forever, it seemed. And they never rang more true as he stood there with her staring straight at him with harsh eyes and finding himself averting his gaze because he realized his she was right. The wind blew snow onto both of them and the silence was almost piercing. And neither of them had any idea where Chernobog was, possibly only taking a moment to lick his wounds briefly before returning for the kill.

"Don't look at me like that," she said softly. "It doesn't suit you." She nudged him gently. "You're here to kick that thing in the ass, aren't you? So am I. I can't hide behind others all my life. You told me once, 'if it means your life, don't save mine'. Well, right back at you."

Dante finally had the composure to look at her after she said that and shook his head with a determined gaze in his icy-blue hues. "You don't get it. They're after _you_. And if you just walk into their arms trying to fight, they win. You need to hide!" He pointed toward the rusted gate. "Get your ass out of here and I'll take care of this! Look for Roy and tell him about 'Chernobog'. Tell him what’s going on and get hiding."

He stared at her for a moment, before shouting in an annoyed voice when she didn't move, “NOW! Just leave!”

But she stood firm. "No," she replied dryly, in a stubborn tone. "I _know_ they're after me. Enough is enough; I can’t run all my life. If I don’t take a stand now, I’ll never be able to. Besides, I had a vision--a nightmare, just after you left. I _saw you die_. Everyone can call me crazy all they like, but I trust my visions. I'm going to change that," she said and walked past him.

He stared as she passed by him. Her determination aside, what did she mean, she had a vision? He wondered how she could be so certain of what she had seen. What _had_ she seen, anyway? A hint of doubt crossed his mind. _Is she telling the truth?! Or is she bullshitting me just to stay here?_

She didn't look at him; she was inspecting the trees around them. "Some stories say wiccans were given the power to change fate; I want to test that. I've let others suffer for my sake for too long, I won't let you take my problems on yourself--not so easily. Now stop being stubborn and get your head out of your ass, or I'll kick you again, because you're underestimating me!" she said.

She turned to the trees ahead of her, where she could see the intense aura of Chernobog through the dark. "And _you_! You wanted me, so here I am! Come and get me!" she shouted, putting out her arm and beckoning the demon, taunting it almost like he did.

Dante, after a moment of just gapping at her recklessness and willingness to use herself as bait to lure out that walking icicle, darted to her and grabbed her around the waist and mouth. He pulled her behind the base of a large statue of some historical figure that looked down upon the park.

"You're fucking crazy! I told you to get the hell out of here! You don't understand what we're up against! Do you want to fucking die!?" he whispered to her viciously. Why was this girl so impossibly stubborn?

Tess pulled his hand off her mouth and struggled against him but his hold was too strong. "You hypocrite, so it’s ok for you to risk your ass but not me?! Shut up. Look, stop trying to convince me to leave; I'm not going to leave you here to die or do whatever it is you'll do, _alone_! I know what you’re up against and I know that I can help you!" she said. "He’s an _ice_ demon, for fuck’s sake! I’m a _fire_ witch! This is my fight as much as it is yours, so stop babying me!"

Dante's grip loosened when he heard that. It dawned on him that he was being hypocritical, even if he knew that he _could afford_ to be a reckless idiot, unlike her. But she was right; he had no right to stop her from being there. He wondered at her fearlessness and his own sudden worrying. If she was being so bold, why on earth was he being such a worrywart and allowing it to hold him back? Their roles used to be reversed, so what had happened now? He got annoyed suddenly and realized he couldn’t keep her safe if he didn’t start acting like his usual self. He’d let her help, but wouldn’t allow her to get in the way.

Before either could say another word, Chernobog came out into the open very suddenly, with a horrible growl. He came from above, landing on the ground with a loud thud that shook the earth and rising up on his legs again he roared, showing a severely burned face, with the entire half of his face scarred and his left eye closed, in a grimace of pain.

"You miserable little bitch!" the demon snarled. "Wiccan excrement! Your kind has been a nuisance long enough! Why don't you listen to your friend and run? Do you even trust him, the half-demon that he is?”

Tess glared. “I’m not going anywhere,” she stated, staring the demon down and clenching her fists tightly. “I’m not afraid of you, ice princess!”

Dante blurted a startled chuckle. It seemed that he was rubbing off on her and suddenly realized that she wouldn’t have come if she didn’t have confidence in him. And that realization suddenly made him incredibly calm and just a little annoyed; he had a score to settle with this demon, and it was very important that he do so. His pride was on the line and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he lost face to Tess of all people! He stared Chernobog down with an angry smirk while he disciplined his emotions from getting carried away by anger. He’d show that old man Roy that he _could_ fight with a calm head.

“Damn right he’s an _Ice Princess,_ ” he said boldly. “You think you can just rear your ugly-ass face into the human world and threaten my partner like that!? Did think there wouldn’t be someone to match you here?” He then scoffed. “Too bad you were wrong, Ice Princess! I got human blood but so what? I’ve got all the perks of demons too.”

As he said that and flashed a smug grin at the ice demon, his eyes got redder again. He glanced at Tess momentarily and saw her smiling in pleasant surprise. She seemed almost proud of him. And although she stood just a little behind him, she didn’t appear to regret her determined choice to stay there at all. There was no fear in her eyes, neither for the ice demon, nor for his demonic aura, which he suspected was becoming stronger and more restless.

Chernobog stared back at the halfling with his one good eye and a smirk formed over his ugly maw. "You have nerve, boy," he said dryly. He held out his long arm to the side, made a large icicle shoot up from the snow into his hand, like a sword.

"I might enjoy carving out your little human heart before I take your 'Twig' to my wretched master. How pathetic. You will regret wasting your precious life over one miserable witch!" the demon snarled and strode towards Dante fast, wielding the ice shard like a sword, while a blizzard rose in his wake that barreled towards them with him.

Dante grit his teeth without losing his smile and charged forth as well and then suddenly side-stepped and drew his sword. He deflected the swipe of the ice blade easily and before Chernobog could reel back, Dante drove his fist into the demon’s gut and pushed him further back and away from Tess who moved out of the way and ducked behind the statue to avoid a blast of icy wind that caused ice to crackle along the ground.

“How about you shut that trap of yours and I’ll show you nerve. Bet you won’t be so smug when I boot you off that pedestal of yours,” he sneered. “’Sides, you’re chicken, threatening a girl.”

“Dante, look out!” was all Tess had time to shout before the brunt of the blizzard that Chernobog summoned hit him.

The demon had reeled back from the double blow and suddenly surrounded himself and Dante in a dense flurry of snow and frozen wind that swarmed around them like a tornado. Chernobog showed no reaction to Dante’s blows and just struck the boy in the chest fast before grabbing him by the neck with a vice-like grip. The demon’s claws scraped Dante’s neck painfully and with the same flowing move he casually held the teenager up and before Dante could draw his guns, the demon threw him against a large rock all the way across the clearing they were fighting in, with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. Dante smacked hard against the rock, back first, and then was encased in a massive structure of ice that erupted out of the ground under him.

Tess watched all that in horror. It had happened too fast for her to interfere and she only managed to produce a big lash of fire that struck the demon’s back just as he threw Dante like a ragdoll. Chernobog grunted in pain but he turned and with a swing of the ice sword extinguished the second lash she sent at him before trudging over to her. She backed up quickly and hurled some fire blasts at him as fast as she could, bracing herself and making an attempt to dodge around him and free Dante.

The demon momentarily backed away from the flames but then swung the ice sword again and sent a mass of frost that extinguished the flames and caught Tess, trapping her legs under a layer of hard ice. It hurt on contact and she blurted a shout before the demon grabbed her by the neck too, lifting her off her feet. The act cracked the ice and scraped her legs through her jeans. The next instant Chernobog smacked her back against the trunk of a tree and the impact shook snow off its branches. The demon stared right at her as she suffocated, her hands clawing at the scaly hand of the monster; like many demons, he cared more about torturing witches than outright killing them.

She let small chocked sounds, but the demon failed to notice she wasn't even looking at him. She stared past his arm and over at the mass of ice holding Dante captive. She had an idea about how to free him but she was scared out of her mind that it’d fail. She was never particularly good at making up incantations on the go, but something came easily to her this time.

 _I c-can do this...Three circles,_ she thought, concentrating to direct fire while she could still breathe and three circles blazed around the mass of ice, making a pattern on the snow. _For each principal master of fire. And the sign of Mars._ A pattern of a circle with two horns on the top burned at the top, between the circumferences of the two outer circles.

She flailed her legs weakly and shut her eyes as the grip of the demon grew tighter and she started to feel dizzy from lack of air. _I need an incantation…!_ she thought, panicking.

“What are you doing, wretched thing…?” the demon muttered, watching her open her mouth and croak something weakly while still struggling. “Your friend is dead, none of your kind’s craft can—“

She managed a deep breath and shouted the words of power that made up an incantation just as she felt she was about to faint: _“Rulers of fire! Breathe your wrath into the blade! Sing the death of your enemies in steel and flame!”_

The witch-tongue carried an almost palpable spark of power and the words hung in the air with the ring of a bell and Chernobog was startled. Tess had no idea if it had worked until there was a loud crack of ice followed by the roar of fire and Dante’s angry but satisfied shout as he broke out of his icy shackles. He burst forth with speed, his sword _burning_ brightly and he skidded to a stop behind Chernobog who let go of Tess and turned in a hurry to meet him head on. Dante dodged a swing of the ice blade with a sarcastic laugh and ducked under the next before he thrust his own sword into the demon’s gut, drawing blood and sizzling the frozen flesh with an angry hiss.

“’Sup, Ice Princess?” Dante said with a vicious smile. “It’s too early for you to be picking on girls. We’re not quite done yet!”

Dante felt amazingly good for having almost frozen to death. The fire that wreathed his sword hadn’t been his doing, but he could feel it almost _coursing in his veins_ and he knew he believed Tess now when she said not to underestimate the powers of wiccans.

Chernobog let a sharp snarl like a cough before he tore himself away from Dante, the sword coming out of his flesh with a slippery, squishy sound and the overpowering stench of burned hide.

“Halfling scum!” the demon snarled and some blood dripped from its maw. He raised his arms to call up another violent blizzard but then he snarled and thrashed to the side as a plume of flame engulfed his sword arm. The ice cracked with a loud snapping sound and the demon reeled away from Tess, who’d gotten back on her feet after taking a few deep breaths and with a rather savage look and smile on her face. She was winded, but standing and disregarding a large bruise that was starting to form on her neck.

“How do you like witches now, dipshit?” she muttered and Dante grinned. She looked like she’d found her pace at last.

Chernobog stared, wide-eyed and stupefied for a moment. Dante was glad to see that the fire clinging to his sword had blazed back to life after being drawn out of the demon.

“You’ve tricked me,” Chernobog growled. “Witches are too weak to touch demonic weapons with their powers.”

“Well looks like she did!” Dante chuckled.

The demon threw his head back and let a loud roar, spreading out his wings and their beating gave rise to a relentless snowstorm that knocked both teens on their backs. Tess tumbled into a low bush with a yelp while Dante slid on his back in the snow, piling it up behind him. He quickly jumped to his feet and tried to focus over the adrenaline surge that was making his blood run faster. The snowstorm still raged around them but he could see clear enough to note Chernobog coming for him fast.

He’d dropped his sword, so he snatched it up quickly, seeing the fire flare up the moment he grasped it. It was a completely different sensation than previous occasions when his demonic powers surged. But he welcomed it, unafraid of the new possibilities it opened.

He moved to meet Chernobog and sheathed the sword, drawing his guns. He dodged to the right when the demon attempted a swing with his blade and opened fire while dodging subsequent swings, all of them carrying deadly frost with them. The bullets hit the demon’s tough, frozen hide with loud cracks but deterred him very little. Dante suddenly raised his guns, crossed over his head, to catch an overhead swing of the demon’s. The impact of the sword on his guns produced a layer of ice that crackled over the guns and Dante’s hands before he pushed the demon off with a shot to the face and Tess blew him to the side with an explosive blast of fire. She’d untangled herself from the bush and gotten into range again with a few scrapes on her face.

Dante felt his head ache, pounding with the constrained excitement that he showed, attempting to keep his demonic side under some control. He didn’t want to lose this fight because he’d gotten irrational. He put the guns away and drew his sword again, slicing at the demon in a wide arc and driving it back. He knew his eyes were glistening red again and he very nearly felt his canines swelling. Watching Chernobog attempt to retreat from him, Dante threw his sword with all his strength and impaled it into the demon’s chest with a meaty squelch and a spray of blood.

The demon dropped to a knee between the witch and the half-demon, then nonchalantly pulled the sword out, making blood fly out of his chest and threw it back at its owner, angrily. The blizzard raged harder and shards of ice were forming from the whirling snow. Chernobog was still strong enough to fight and suddenly bolted towards Dante, with ice lacing around his forearms and forming larger claws on his huge hands. Meanwhile, the shards of ice forming in the blizzard swooped down along the demon to strike like projectiles.

But the witch wasn’t done yet. Doing her best to bear the inhuman cold and stand up to the howling blizzard, Tess held out her arms in front of her and stared intently at the shards, to guide the fire precisely.

"Don't think you're gonna ignore me!" she mumbled in frustration.

Concentrated bolts of fire burned up out of nowhere, resisting the cold and hurled after the ice shards like falcons. The flames would travel in controlled trajectories and struck the majority of the shards, knocking them out of their course, or shattering them in midair.

Tess smiled confidently as she kept taking out the shards, even as some turned against her. She had never tried fighting under harsh conditions like this wind, and she was certain that a while ago this situation would have overwhelmed her. Necessity now was making her concentrate harder, and the presence of an ally, or rather a rival, was making her put aside her lack of confidence in her personal abilities. She found to her surprise that she was actually doing better than she’d feared.

She also had a sneaking suspicion that, deep down, Dante would never forgive her if she needlessly helped him further against the demon. She could tell by his expression and how utterly maddening his aura was getting that he wanted to gib this frosty bastard himself. And she respected that. But she was determined to at least keep his mind off minor distractions like those shards. Besides, her interference irritated Chernobog, so _that_ helped too.

She drew back her arms, took a deep breath and jerking her arm ahead created another barrage of fire bolts to take out the demon’s ice shards. She was getting better at aiming her fire and dealing with the cold.

Dante could hear his savage heartbeat through the whistling wind and the roar of flames. He knew Tess must’ve noted his aura, which he was certain was going crazy. It took all his self-control to keep a cool head and not get carried away. He was about to go over the edge…and he loved it. He exchanged violent sword strikes with Chernobog and the demon’s speed with that ice blade was testing the boy’s skills.  His demonic side was getting all the more excited and he felt his fingernails starting to elongate while his canines were growing more pointed. His eyes were almost completely black with red irises and his senses were so heightened it was almost unreal.

Control was absolutely important now or he’d risk going berserk. Chernobog reeled back from a reverberating clash of blades with a grunt and swept his arm at Dante, sending a particularly strong gust of frozen wind at him. Dante heard the ice crackling over the ground in its wake and dodged to the side with more precision than he’d ever have on other days—all without really thinking about it. He couldn’t stop smirking confidently in a rather savage way, defiantly calm. The wind and the cold were almost inexistent and he jumped over a sudden swing of Chernobog’s sword with ease. He felt light and invincible.

Landing in a roll next to the demon, he came to one knee and drew his guns. He felt a surge of power crackling at his fingertips and when he opened fire, the muzzle flashes seemed brighter than normal. The bullets cut the air with force, hitting the demon’s back and puncturing the thick hide of the demon, blowing holes into his wings. The demon turned abruptly and charged him again, yet Dante kept firing, backpedaling all the while, till Chernobog got too close and he barely had time to put the guns away and draw his sword. For a moment he thought the eyes of the skull on the cross-guard flashed red but he wasn’t sure; his attention was on the massive demon that filled his line of sight. Chernobog towered over him again and Dante struck out with the sword to block another overhead swing and with that deflected, he swung at the demon’s torso with ferocity. Chernobog parried with the ice blade and the two clashed blades several times in fury, Dante feeling every reverberation of the swords along his arms.

“I thought you’d have given up by now!” Dante laughed as he came to a deadlock with the much taller demon. There was something rather cruel about his tone and expression, the thrill of a real hunter on prey.

Chernobog just stared back, silent, his face wrinkled like an animal's. The halfling's rage and aggression seemed to have caught Chernobog unprepared, probably never expecting such force behind the sword of the teenager.

The demon was knocked backwards from a sudden retreat and counter blow, as Dante moved ahead with each strike, handling the sword with the expertise of much older fighter. Dante wasn’t thinking; he was driven completely by instinct and he didn’t question it. He wasn’t fighting like a human, of that much he was certain.

Chernobog parried and dodged some of the hits, but many got him. One hit pierced and tore through his wing while another landed a precision strike at his ribcage that was too savage to reel back from. His attempts to defend himself with ice shards or ice were foiled by Tess' fast fire bolts. Although she must’ve been getting some brutal punishment from the supernatural blizzard and having to deal with the presence of a great demon and Dante’s raging aura, she was not stopping.

Dante glanced at her for a moment, just to catch sight of her looking downright glorious, surrounded by fire and directing it at anything she wanted. Their gazes met for a moment and Dante could read it in her eyes: she was worried, but stood firm.

Chernobog staggered backwards with a nasty fountain of blood pouring out of his neck, holding a now shattered shard of ice in his hand, and having more injuries all over after Dante wailed on him again. He panted shallow and raspy and he glared at the young slayer with abysmal hate. They had fought for nearly thirty minutes now, and the ground around them looked like a bulldozer had run through it, complete with a couple of felled trees. The snow was strewn with blood and slushy with mud. The halfling and the demon stood a few feet apart, both of them tired from the pressing battle.

Behind Dante, the frozen lake of the park lay silent, the darker color of the thin ice stark against the still pristine snow on the shores. Chernobog felt his power diminishing, fading under the pressure of exhaustion. This boy was stronger than he looked. And the witch...his Master had ordered her to be captured, but everything had gone wrong. First the mighty circle of protection that guarded the adobe they lived in, the protector djinn and now this strange halfling--who yet had so much power, even with a minimal demonic essence.

Yes, all this strength he showed was merely a fraction of what his essence gave away; powers not yet tapped into, or matured. It befuddled the demon.

Chernobog let a loud, screechy snarl and stretching his mauled wings, gave rise to the fiercest blizzard wind so far. Tess was knocked over by its fierceness and the cold pierced her to the bones. She crouched down, trying to shelter herself and holding a hand over her eyes to try and protect them from the snow as she struggled to see what was happening. As the blizzard mounded to a snowstorm, she saw Chernobog let an earth-shuddering roar and then he charged Dante in a cloud of powder snow.

Dante braced himself, clutching Rebellion's hilt tightly. The sword, _still_ aflame from Tess’ magic glowed brighter as he took a stance, seemingly determined to take the demon head on.

“Dante!! No, DON’T!!” Tess shrieked but she knew her voice never travelled over that wind.

Dante watched Chernobog tower over him, bringing along a frozen wind that was so cold it hurt to breathe it in. He calmly stared up with a gaze very much fit for a demon and smirked. Chernobog threw himself into the teenager, as Dante pulled the sword back and then dragged it forward, nearly scraping the earth under the blade, slamming it into Chernobog's chest, sending a drive of reddish power to blast along the arch of the blade. It sounded like distant thunder and shot upwards, cleaving a deep cut in Chernobog’s chest, the impact sounding hollow. The demon’s head was whipped up as the arc of the hit met his chin, and shards of the icy jaw-line chipped off. Blood spattered upwards too, from the deep, jagged cut left on the demon's chest. Dante was certain he'd won. He could see no reaction of regeneration on the demon. That last blow had been a deciding one.

But it had also been draining for him. He'd made a mistake, releasing all that energy, because he now felt weakened. His knees suddenly felt like rubber.

The demon wasn’t dead. Chernobog let a cracked growl and as his body continued lunging forward, he swung his arm hard, with the last of his strength, and caught the tired teenager in the chest. The broken ice sword hit him in the sternum and knocked Dante off his feet and sent Rebellion flying from his hand. The momentum was such that both of them crashed onto the surface of the lake behind them, breaking through the ice and plummeting down its icy waters. Chernobog's body, made mostly of animated ice and rock-like flesh, sank like lead, trapping the halfling under it as it pulled him deeper into the frozen lake.

The ice above crackled and bobbed on the surface, floating around in the large crack. As soon as Chernobog's carcass sank into the lake, the snowstorm he had unleashed began to die down rapidly.

The sudden plummet into the icy waters was a shock and reminded Dante of his mortality. His earlier excitement turned to fear and his demonic side seemed to switch off suddenly. In the icy cold water, all he could do was panic and struggle. He could deal with damage, but breathing was an entirely different matter. He gripped at the piece of ice stuck in his chest and winced as he strained to pull it out. To his horror he found his strength had drained away with his demonic side, and he couldn’t even heave the heavy carcass off him. The cold of the water was paralyzing and his efforts to dislodge the broken ice shard made him waste energy. He managed to yank it out at last but in doing so he accidentally opened his mouth and swallowed a big gulp of frozen water that hurt like needles. Water rushed into his chest before the wound closed, making his situation worse.

Dante felt drugged and sluggish. Cold was eating away at his vitality, already worn from the fighting. Things started getting darker and less clear as he descended into the dark water. Feeling what air he had left wanting to burst from his chest, he forced his mouth to remain shut. He attempted to pull free from the demon’s carcass but his eyes suddenly rolled back and the icy temperatures of the waters sank right into his bones. His last coherent thoughts were about the irony of having survived so many demon assaults, just to die from drowning.

_Can’t…move…It’s so cold. Never known cold like this…_

Meanwhile, Tess had already started running towards Dante the moment Chernobog went ramming into him. This was _just_ what she had seen a vision earlier, like a supernatural movie almost, ramming into her head. She’d felt the plunge into the lake and the frozen water swallowing her like it swallowed him now. That’s what scared her so much and set her after Dante in the first place. She’d seen him drown.

She screamed his name when the ice on the lake split under him and he sank into the murky water. She raced to the lakeside and stopped some few inches from the water, looking at the hole in the ice with wide eyes, gaping and breathing hard. Her face contorted to a worrisome expression that made her seem crazy. She hoped against her better judgment, but he was _not_ coming up.

She never stopped to think what she was doing and didn't think about her own safety, what this frozen lake could possibly to do to her, a puny witch that had an affinity with fire. She skidded along the intact ice and haphazardly dove into the frozen water through the hole.

It was almost like hitting concrete and the sudden cold gave her such a shock as it surrounded her that she didn't make it past the first few feet of water. Air was knocked right out of her, forcing her to backtrack to the surface, gasping for air and almost passing out from the cold. She was already shaking and felt like she couldn't breathe, the weight of her clothes pulling her down. But she persisted.

She kept thinking _He's going to die! He's going to die_ for real _and it'll be_ my _fault!_ That thought both scared and willed determination into her.

She took a deep breath fast and dove down into the frozen waters. She kicked hard with her legs and pulled with her arms, heading deeper. She didn't know what was scarier: the cold, the prospect of drowning herself, the thought of reaching Dante too late, the dark…or the silence, which was eerie, almost overwhelming. It felt like it was devouring her, even blotting out her thoughts. Even though she was a strong swimmer, nothing could have prepared her for such circumstances. She was starting to panic, as she ran out of air; she couldn't see him anywhere. The water was too dark and the cold was making her feel disoriented.

 _DAMMIT WHERE ARE YOU!?_ her mind screamed as her head darted about, eyes wide and trying to see in the dark.

It was his aura that guided her to him. She saw it, faint and getting weaker, glowing feebly red below her. She knew it was him right away and frantically kicked through the water towards him. Chernobog's lifeless body looked like a lump of stone strewn on the lakebed. Dante was half-trapped under the torso. His legs were stuck. He looked dead.

Tess, running out of air, dove at him and seized his arm, then pulled, thrusting her legs against the muddy lakebed. She pulled hard, trying to free him from under the dead demon. She bit her lips together in determination. They were turning blue and color was leaving her skin rapidly. The cold was making her feel faint but she _had_ to save him, it was the only thing in her mind. She looked at him and for a moment his aura flared up, as if he had a brief second of conscience. His arm twitched, like he was beckoning her to leave him and save herself.

But she wasn't going to let go of him. His aura springing livelier gave her hope, as she had ever scarcely allowed herself to hope about anything. She tugged harder, seizing his arm from under the elbow and his wrist. She pulled harder, feeling more breathless. It happened suddenly, that her pulling made the corpse of the demon move, ever so slightly and Dante slid from under it. She almost screamed happily, almost let go of the precious air that was bursting in her lungs. She slid her arms under his armpits and locking her hands together around his chest, kicked off the muddy lake-bed and rocketed for the surface as fast as she could manage, with his weight pulling down and her legs starting to ache from the exhausting effort.

Her vision tunneled, all she could see was the small, bright dot that could be the moon through the hole in ice of the surface. She needed air, so desperately, but she wouldn't let go of him. Something screamed in her head to not let go of him, because he was important to her that she could never let go of him.

Dante had lost consciousness well before she reached him. His throat was full of water and his lips were blue from the cold. He couldn't see, hear or feel anymore. He was losing all sense of time and space very quickly. He felt like he was floating, although he wasn’t sure if he was upside down or not. He’d never put much thought into what was there after death. Clinging to the edge of self-awareness was a really strange feeling. He felt himself falling into dark, cold and silence. He knew he was falling fast, though he didn't know for how long or even which way.

He had enough presence of mind to know that he had to stop the fall. But he had no sense of his body, or where he was, just an undefined darkness. He wondered if he should let himself fall. Maybe the lakebed would be a nice, quiet place to rest. It was a tempting thought…but something wasn’t letting go of him. It was a curious feeling, somebody holding his hand in the dark, although the feeling was no human sensation that he ever knew of.

 _What’s it going to be? Gonna stop here?_ He thought abstractly. _No idea._

Suddenly he sensed some warmth in the cold. He could feel something, _someone_ trying to pull him back. _He_ was trying to pull himself back. But he was still slipping. He resisted. But the fall into the darkness continued. He struggled against the fall, the pull of the darkness and the silence. He had the horrible sensation that somehow, he had slipped right through the hands of someone trying to pull him back. He still felt some warmth and vaguely heard his name being called. He was still slipping, feeling a crushing indecisiveness. Keep falling, or keep fighting?

 _What are you doing?!_ he asked himself.

He was certain he heard his name now. The warmth he felt was _life_. Fear knocked him around. The numbness started fading. The silence began to crack like glass. Feeling came back--he felt cold and wet, and the air stinging against his skin. Something warm was pressing against him. The sound of his beating heart and the wind came first. The dark flickered. Light tried to break through, colors and shapes tried to invade the dull nothing. His chest was burning, like it wanted to explode. He needed air. He felt like being thrust into a concrete wall face first.  

“…te…on’t…go!”

For a mere moment, he heard his name, broken up by daze. His chest hurt and he felt pressure there.

_Who is it?_

How long had it been since he stopped breathing?

Suddenly everything became crystal clear. Water flew from his mouth and he coughed loudly. He jolted and tensed, gasping for air in big mouthfuls. His eyes snapped open and he heard Tess shriek in surprise. He felt dizzy and sick but he absently realized he was alive.

“Dante!!” was all she blurted before she grabbed hold of his coat’s lapels and pulled him to sit up.

He blinked a couple of times and focused on her. She looked like hell.

For her part, Tess stared back at him in shock, delight and relief all together. A rather crazy smile formed on her lips and she thanked every deity she could think of: he was live! She had pulled him out of the frozen water and onto the edge of the ice with difficulty. The ice had broken further under their weight and cussing, she hauled Dante to shore. Her body ached. He wasn’t moving or breathing and she panicked. Anything she knew of CPR had slipped right out of her mind--a combination of panic and hypothermia.

"Oh my God..." she mumbled. "Dante, you--A-are you...are you okay?" she stuttered, grabbing his shoulders and looking at him. She was soaked and she was trembling so badly she felt she would fall over.

Dante didn't speak. Instead, he kept choking and gasping for air, his eyes locked on her with a startled and even scared look that must’ve been as bad as hers; something she _never_ thought she’d see on his features. He coughed a little again.

“What’d you do…!?” he blurted through coughs. He was still breathing heavily.  

“You were drowning,” she said, startled. “Do you remember?”

“Bits. You saved my ass?” he choked.

She just nodded, likely still not over the shock of what she’d done. He suddenly pulled away and stood up, holding out his hand for her to take.

“Let’s get outta here before you freeze to death,” he said shakily then laughed nervously. “Did I get a kiss at least for this shit?”

Tess just stared back at him, probably unable to believe that he had just casually shrugged this whole thing off. She looked anguished as she stood up too, like she was choking. Then she lunged at him and…hugged him. She threw her arms around his neck, pressed her head against his shoulder and hugged him tight, almost sobbing.

"No! You half-demonic jerk—you idiot! You and your stupid jokes! You scared the life out of me!” she said, almost sounding angry but the way she clung to him spoke otherwise. “I thought you were dead! I’m so glad you’re not!”

Dante just stood there, his arm still outstretched as Tess clung to him and ranted in a manner he never saw coming. For a moment he felt really, _really_ awkward. When was the last time someone had been so close to him? He'd almost forgotten how it felt like. Coming to his senses, he slowly and gently wrapped his arms around her back for a brief moment, awkwardly. She was shaking violently.

 _Probably freezing,_ he told himself.

"I’m sorry, Twig…” he muttered. “Hey, we got of time for this later. We gotta get you someplace warm,” he said, releasing her. “I can carry—“

She probably wanted to blush but she was so pale that her cheeks were barely pink when she pulled back and shook her head quickly. "Y-you don't have to do that. You nearly drowned. I can still walk," she said, holding back the stuttering because of her rattling teeth. Instead she just tugged his coat, walking past him as vigorously as she could. "Come on, pick up that meat cleaver of yours and let’s - let’s go home."

Dante couldn’t help a soft smile. “Right behind you.”

He picked up his sword, the fire that had bathed it now extinguished; it probably went out when he lost consciousness. He paused and stared at the hole in the ice of the lake for a moment. It looked scary, even to him, dark against the pale ice, like a dead-man’s mouth. She really had jumped into this hellhole to get him out, hadn’t she? The thought of her doing so and risking her life for his sorry ass made him shiver.

She could have died. She could have died, and that would be like—

 _Shit. Someone would’ve died for my sake,_ again _. Like mom. Dammit, Tess. Give me guilt trips, why don’t you,_ he thought, frowning. _I don’t want anyone taking the fall for my sake. I hate being protected by someone else! I can’t afford that, Twig…not you._

He hurried after, fighting exhaustion and his frozen clothes. The cold was getting to him. He caught up with Tess just as she passed through the gates and slowed to walk with her, keeping a close eye on her as they went and sheathed his sword.

Tess walked with her arms crossed over her chest, shuddering in the cold, her lips blue. But she didn't want help or pity. She didn't want to be weak. For once in all the years she had been able to really do things on her own, she felt rather proud of herself and what she had accomplished. She gulped, realizing what she had done just a while ago, jumping into a frozen lake to save him…because he was precious to her. Awkward, that's what it was. And then other things finally settled in her mind. What they had done.

"We killed Chernobog," she said suddenly, amazed at her own words. "We killed a greater demon. A greater _fucking_ demon. Oh my God," she added slowly. "I mean-- _you_ killed him. But still--that's something... _wow_ " she stuttered, feeling rather awed and excited with the realization. "You really killed a demon lord."

Dante gave a crooked smile at her, looking between their pitiful states. He spoke in a voice shivery from the cold. "Was that a compliment, Tess?" he said slyly. 

She laughed awkwardly and looked away. They were both turning sluggish and slowing down.

"And you--just look at what you did with my sword. I mean, this is a demon's relic. It’s got its own demonic aura, like it's alive. And you set it on fire. How you did that is beyond me, but that was the coolest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Tess almost stopped walking when what he said registered. "So it worked? For real?!" she said, wide-eyed. "I didn't realize it did--I mean, I was trying to make it work but I thought--because it’s a demon sword and you’re part demon that…that it’d fail… I’m not too good with spells on the fly…oh…” she muttered, sounding surprised at herself.

Dante smiled then suddenly put his arm around her waist, probably noticing that she was staggering. “You did it, Twig. And to top it all off…” he said, turning a little glum. "You saved my life. Wouldn’t this pay back your family's debt to my old man? No need to keep me around anymore."

That seemed to snap her out of it and she stopped and seized his arm, stopping him too. "What--what are you talking about!? That--I wasn't even thinking about that!!" she said loudly, stamping her foot down suddenly.

"I-I never thought of it! I just--dammit, Dante, _I don't care about that_ , I just wanted you back!! Don't you get it, you idiot, you're the first person I've never had to pretend for, that I've never had to lie--how can you say that I don't need to keep you around anymore--what do you think I take you for, some kind of pet!? You’re _my friend_ dammit, of course I want you around!" she said, looking at him, completely indignant. "You--I don't want...I don't want you to go just like that!" she added quietly, looking flustered she’d blurted all that out.

Dante looked down for a moment after her rant and then looked over at her with a rather devilish grin. He was glad she was back to her old, feisty self again. He liked her so much better that way. Honest to a fault, really. It _almost_ made him feel guilty again for all the teasing he'd done.

"You love me," he said teasingly and so casually, as if he were so certain it was true.

Whether he was right or not didn't matter. Now he was just being Dante again and felt like poking her after being inexplicably relieved to hear her say she wanted him around. Still, he was so sure that she liked him much more than a friend.

She almost looked like she was about to shout at him, but she stumbled ahead with a small annoyed growl and he hurried along her.

"Well I'm not about to tell you that, am I?" she said sharply.

He caught her _smiling_ when she said that.

"Pick up your feet. I want my bed," she said, trying to sound defiant, but her sass was cut from a cough. Her throat already burned and ached.

Dante again reminded himself that they were both probably suffering hypothermia. He reached out for her as she coughed, catching up quickly and holding her shoulders as the coughing fit came to a stop. He looked worried. "Take it easy, Twig! Hypothermia'll kill you if you get all excited. Save it for when we get home."

She raised a soaked sleeve to her mouth as she coughed and nodded. "I’ll be okay. Let’s just go home," she said.

They walked the rest of the way home, Tess coughing slightly sometimes, and eventually breaking into a rather amusing, small sort of sneezing that sounded more like a kitten than a human. " _K-chun!!_ ”

Dante walked slowly with her, cracking a smile at how funny she sounded. But, frankly, she wasn’t looking well; she staggered and trembled rather violently, coughing. He was almost about to pick her up in his arms and _run_ back to the boarding house if he wasn’t afraid she’d set him on fire.


	12. Consequences

It took them a while to get back to their familiar neighborhood and when they reached the boarding house it was almost 3 at night. Even before they got to the front door, Dante could see Roy up ahead, waiting for them in the open doorway. It was difficult to tell his expression against the dark backdrop of the lobby at first, but his figure was unmistakable. He couldn’t tell how the old man would greet them. Feeling neither scared, nor proud, Dante just wanted to get Tess some help.

She really wasn’t looking very well; her fingers and lips were turning a bruised blue hue and her legs were wobbly and unable to keep her walking. She outright had refused to be carried in any way, so when her stumbling got to its worst, Dante slipped an arm around her waist to make sure she wouldn’t faceplant. Now that he saw the djinn waiting at the doorstep for them, Dante realized how he must’ve looked, having his arm around her waist. He gulped a bit and hoped Roy wasn’t going to skin him alive.

Roy didn't wait for them at the doorstep. As they got closer, Dante saw him bite his lips and jog down the steps like he couldn’t help himself. He was deathly pale and had a strange expression, worried and relieved. He walked up to them and before either could react he seized both kids, each from one arm, and walked them up the steps and into the building, all the while stuttering a little.

"Finally, you’re back. I had half a mind to go out, tearing the city apart looking for you. You're both wet to the bone--frozen! Why did I ever let you two go?" he muttered, frustrated. “Thank goodness you’re both in one piece!”

In the lobby, Magda was waiting for them by the kitchen door, holding towels. She looked calm and serene, but her look was sharp, kind of shrewish. She had the look of someone who had not slept and it showed on her tightened face.

"Dry yourselves out. There is hot coffee in the kitchen," she said dryly, handing them both towels. Then she dragged Tess closer to her, despite the girl's protests.

She draped one towel over Tess’ shoulders and then used the other to vigorously dry her hair. The old woman looked rigid and strict but her lip was trembling a little. "You're going to get ill," she stated as-a-matter-of-factly to Tess. “I don’t want to know what it is you did--I can tell it was exceptionally _foolish_. Unless of course you _want_ to end up dead.”

Tess protested, trying to pry her grandmother off her. "Ow, ow, Grams!"

Dante gulped as Roy draped another towel on him. He was sure that the two adults would _murder_ them for being reckless idiots, and he knew he should be expecting the worse. After the ordeal at the park that he had just survived, he was too tired and unwilling to put up much of a fight.

"Yeah, Tess. You're gonna catch a cold for sure. You should have left me to drown. Ice Princess was already dead. You shoulda left me at the bottom of the lake," he said sarcastically.

Magda glared at him angrily when he said that, but he now saw something different in her look as well: Like she was a little afraid of him. She seized Tess from the arm and helped her up the stairs.

“Come with me,” she told the girl. “You need to dry up and get warm.”

Tess put up some weak protestations but followed her, looking back at Dante briefly. She had a tired and dejected look that said how much she was dreading the prospect of being stuck alone with Magda and he felt sorry for her. They broke off their gaze about the same time because they knew Magda and Roy would notice…although Dante was pretty sure Roy wasn’t going to be so pissed about it. Just then, Roy put his hand on Dante’ shoulder.

“Come with me, you need something hot to drink," he said, actually seizing the back of the boy’s coat and ushering him towards the kitchen. "I need to talk to you," he added under his breath. All Dante could do was follow, feeling a little intimidated.

Tess got hauled straight to the second floor bathroom by her grandmother. “Listen to me,” the old woman hissed, tugging her by the arm and forcing her in the shower stall. “This kind of folly will not be repeated, do you hear me? You are _never_ to follow him again.”

“Bugger off Grams!” Tess started, breaking into another coughing fit. “You don’t--you don’t own me,” she carried on as she started stripping her frozen, wet clothes and shivering.

Magda glared at that reply as she took the clothes from her and pulling back her sleeves, she opened the shower’s water to hot. “Why must you always cross me? First with your delusional belief that you see the future, then acting as if the halfling is not—“

“Stop calling him that!!” Tess shouted, breaking into another coughing fit and wincing as the hot water hit her skin.

“Stop treating him like he’s a freak, behind his back! You have no right to call him anything; you don’t control him. I bet you hate that! You hate anyone you can’t control!” she said, through more coughing and shivered under the hot water.

Magda stared down at her as if she both felt sorry for and was angry at the girl while taking hold of her hands and rubbed the girl’s bruised fingers, looking at all the scrapes, cuts and bruises the girl had.

“Hate him? No, he doesn’t matter to me. But I don’t feel safe,” she said sharply. “He is a half-demon and I have had enough experience with demons in my life. I have put up with one hell-spawn already.”

“Don’t talk about my father like that!” Tess growled at her. The hot water stung on her cold skin and her throat was getting sore and making her voice croak. “You’re always like this, talking ill of any person that means something to me!”

Magda smirked, backing off as Tess stepped out of the shower. “A bit sensitive about him, aren’t you?”

“Well _he_ doesn’t think I’m half that bad!” Tess said, snatching another big towel and wrapping herself in it while Magda draped another one on her shoulders.

Magda paused and looked at her with a strange expression. “On the contrary, you don’t seem to think _he's_ half that bad either.”

Tess froze, but didn’t lose her head. “He’s better than you!” she hissed.

Then she actually regretted it because Magda frowned…differently. “Because he doesn’t understand. What is happening here is bigger than you two. He puts you in more danger than either of you comprehend. Now get dressed and go to bed. You’ve been through enough,” she said and her voice trebled.

Tess stepped out of the bathroom, aware that she was already running a slight fever and feeling exhausted. Magda seemed unwilling to continue the argument and just followed her to her room, where she helped her dress despite the girl’s protestations. The old woman hounded her until she climbed into bed and demanded to be left alone to sleep.

Meanwhile, Dante had let Roy push him into the kitchen, despite the certainty that he was about to get the third degree. He’d accepted the old man’s superior experience as a fact and wanted to see what he had to say about this.

Roy had yanked his soaked coat and sweater off him, leaving the boy in his t-shirt, then wrapped him in a big towel. Then he pushed Dante into a chair next to the hot radiator, poured hot coffee into a mug, which he subsequently shoved into Dante's cold hands and draped another towel over his head. He drew up a chair opposite him, sat down and leaned forward with his hands on his thighs, in a kind of anticipating manner.

"Well? How did it go?" he asked, rather expectantly. "Did you get the bastard?"

Dante had raised the mug to his lips, grateful for the hot beverage, when Roy dropped that bombshell, nearly making him choke on his coffee and sputter it. He had definitely not expected the djinn to actually _approve_ of their reckless behavior. Taking caution in his choice of words, he silently wondered if it was a trap. He spoke slowly, sipping his coffee between sentences. The warm liquid trickled down his throat and made him realize how cold he’d been and just how exhausted he felt.

"Yeah. We got him. We got him good," he said.

Instead of getting mad or reacting in any other aggressive or disapproving manner, Roy looked a little excited. He smacked his hand onto his knee and grinned.

"HAH! Good! Excellent! Best news in ages," he laughed, rubbing his chin. “I was a little worried when you snuck out and Tess then almost broke her neck to follow you. Yes, I knew where you two were heading, I'm not a halfwit,” he added as Dante stared.

“You did?! Then why the hell—“

“Did I not stop you?” Roy finished. “I wanted to. But really… _could_ I have stopped either of you? You'd probably run me over and Tess would've just given me a big fat order to mind my business. No, that wouldn't be fair for either of you."

“ _Fair!?_ ” Dante echoed, somewhat indignant. “We almost got ourselves killed; you could’ve--I don’t know-- _done something_?”

Roy scoffed. “And have you both whining afterwards that I was ‘babying’ you? Heavens no, I’m much happier with how it turned out. You were so set on going after Chernobog and Tess was so fixed on following you that I was a bit reluctant to get in the way.”

“So, you just let us go? You told us that stuff about Chern-the-butter and you still let us go?” Dante quipped. He wasn’t sure if he felt indignant or angry.

Roy just nodded with a casual shrug. “It’s a little more complicated than that. While you kids were out, we had a little…invasion.”

Dante started. “Something tried to bust in?”

“Not in the house, just the protective circle. It was almost breached. I…felt it take,” the djinn said seriously. “It was one of those madmen you’ve seen before. But the important part is that I felt something…different about him.”

Dante felt alarmed that something might’ve tried to get into their home base while he was away. “What happened?”

“The circle held; we’re alright for now. Chernobog being out of the picture should help.” Roy rubbed his chin. “Anyway, I didn’t like letting you kids go out there, but I realized that it was the only way this would end well. Judging from the way you both look, I suppose I was a bit _too_ optimistic about your abilities, but still.”

He sat back and sighed. “See…if I’d gotten involved, you two would’ve raised hell on me. I don’t really care about your tantrums, but Tess… No, thank you, I would rather not be feeling her _scathing_ ranting on me for the next decade.”

Dante just scoffed sarcastically. He didn’t know if he should be angry at the old man or not.

“Besides,” Roy continued, “I would be depriving you both of a chance to show these demons that you can handle your own. I won’t always be there to come barreling in. And pardon my old-fashioned confidence, but you sure as hell can fight.” He leaned forward and patted Dante on the shoulder in a way that was not patronizing in the least. Dante could feel it: He was actually proud. “I’m happy with how this turned out. My expectations for both of you are confirmed. Aren’t you?”

Dante shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck and finishing his coffee, feeling grateful for the warmth next to the radiator. “I guess,” he said, hesitantly.

Roy smiled at him a little bit, reluctantly. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

Dante shrugged. “Nah, if you put it that way, I’m not. Dunno about Tess though.” He didn’t show it, but he was pretty proud of himself for the respect he'd gotten from Roy and added, “You know, old man, I wanna ask you about something."

Roy nodded, gesturing for him to go on at his leisure, leaning with interest.

Dante leaned forward too. "Something happened to me that I've never felt before. I felt so powerful; I was fast and so... _pissed off_! I could barely control myself, I felt it. It kept coming and going. I know for sure I didn’t want Tess to see me like that. I knew what I was doing but not all the time; it was like instinct."

Roy listened to him carefully and then studied the teenager. He let a small sigh, rubbing his chin again. "So it’s started. I expected it had. Your demon half is getting stronger," he said skeptically.

He leaned back in his chair, looking a little absent minded, glancing at the ceiling, then the floor as he spoke again. "You're not ready to control your demonic powers yet. You barely are able to keep them from getting to your head. The fact you could muster control…well, that's hopeful. Pray you can keep that clarity later, because it’s only going to get stronger. It could be that you might not be in control of yourself anymore."

Dante shuddered for a moment and shrugged to hide it. That thought unsettled him. If he was close losing control of himself when only a fraction of his power was awakened, what could happen later? He was hesitant to even think about it. The last thing he wanted was to end up becoming like the demons he was so fervently set on destroying.

Roy paused for a moment, as if he was picking his words. "If it goes beyond your control... Well, you'll become like the very kind of demon you so hate; worse, even, if you've been able to kill a greater demon at only sixteen." He gave an absent-minded nod of the head, to nothing in particular. "You're going to grow stronger as you get older. Strength you have; skills, you learn fast. What you need is _experience_. But neither will save you from yourself if you don't watch it.”

Dante watched him eying him and felt a little uncomfortable. Roy looked a little worried about him. “Dammit, stop looking at me like that, I’m fine,” he blurted. “I’m not gonna lose it.”

Roy smiled kindly. “I know. You’re about as fine as a dormant volcano,” he scoffed.

Dante sipped his coffee and mumbled, thinking it over. _No control._ Just like the demons _._ No, he didn’t want to become something like that. He didn’t want to talk any more about this, so he changed the subject swiftly.

"So guess what Tess did!" he said, trying to sound upbeat.

He took another sip of coffee and started drying his head as he spoke. He had to force a bit of faked excitement here, to cut into Roy’s worrying. "She…uh, charged my sword with fire! I mean, my sword's blade was on fire from her magic! She said that’s unheard of because it’s a demonic weapon. Isn’t that kinda awesome?"

Roy's brows bowed up. "Wait-- _what_?!" he gasped, flabbergast. "She did? Huh… that _is_ impressive. See, witches can use their witchcraft against demons, but not enchant them. Their respective powers just reject each other. Only witches that have fallen in with demons can do something like this. It’s amazing that she could do that,” he exclaimed, rubbing his stubble.

“So just what the hell happened back there?” Dante asked. “How’d she do it?”

"I can only think of one reason why this worked,” Roy said skeptically. “Her firestarting power isn’t wiccan; that must be why it can connect with demon relics. But still, I never thought she had it in her to do such advanced witchcraft.”

Then he chuckled. “Wait till Magda hears of this, she's going to have to take back all that slandering she's been filling that girl's head with. Come on, tell me what else happened. Don’t leave anything out.”

Dante hesitated a little.

“I’m not going to get mad. I’m a bit angry at you twerps for almost getting killed, but I’m not going to punish you,” Roy assured him. “I know Chernobog must’ve taunted you, that’s how he is--was, anyway.”

Dante told him everything as best as he could. It was hard to remember all the details since everything happened so fast. And the rush of his demonic side surfacing, to say nothing of nearly drowning, had blurred his recollections of what happened a little. Roy groaned and palmed his forehead when Dante brought up his near-drowning and Tess’ rescue. He called them both idiots but his tone and attitude was of deep concern rather than anger.

_If anything…it’s nice of him to worry about my ass…_ Dante thought and actually felt a little bit…touched.

“So I was right, he did talk,” Roy huffed.

Dante nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t say much but he sure seemed to get a kick out of riling me up. Wouldn’t stop mocking me.” He finally pulled the towel off his head. "And you were right--he said he had a master."

Roy smirked stiffly. "Yes, I expected so. I know he’d have been very angry that not calling the shots," he said, skeptical. "I’m glad you capped him. I’m not surprised they’re after Tess. You probably haven't noticed, but they've been crawling around the area for a while, they've been tagging you two. Only reason they don't attack us is the protection circle. Used to hide us from them, but I think they got past that. But they can't touch us--yet" he said, half gravely, half amused.

He looked at Dante, up and down, a little, and smirked. "You know…you've _surprised_ me. You got a lot more potential than you look. That's good. Don't lose that," he said, getting up and rubbing his knee.

Dante smirked a bit, audaciously. “Told you not to underestimate me, old man.” On the inside, he felt nearly embarrassed in a good way. Being appreciated like this by someone was still new to him.

The response made Roy chuckled. "I’m glad you’ll still be around to remind me. Now! Go up, have a hot shower and change into something warm. Then straight to bed. I don’t care for excuses, you’re both shattered. She’s going to be sick for sure, and I don’t need you out of it at the same time. Get a good night’s sleep and let me worry about tomorrow’s cooking and such.”

Dante smiled, getting up and gathering his still damp clothes and his sword. “Thanks, Roy,” he said and then stood up to go upstairs.

Roy patted his shoulder a little. “Don’t worry about Magda, either. I’ll deal with her. But don’t let these things fill you head all the time, just take it easy for a while.” Then he chuckled some as Dante walked out of the kitchen. “You know… if I knew him at all, your old man would have loved this. I know _her_ father would!”

Hearing that last comment, Dante smiled, despite himself. Even though he'd always given his father little thought, the idea of him being proud of Dante kind of made him feel good. But the empty lobby then reminded him of Tess and looked up the stairs, just to see Magda coming down the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing. She stopped when their gazes met. The old woman still had a pinched expression and her look turned cold when she looked at him. She then came down to the lobby, very dignified and stern, passing right by Dante.

_She’s such a bitch…_ Dante thought. “Hey. Is Tess okay?” he asked her, determined to get an answer from her.

The old woman stopped and glanced back but never really turned. “She’ll be quite ill but there is no danger,” she said dryly.

Dante sulked a little, his good mood dampened by the old woman’s attitude. “Good to hear,” he said. He was too tired to snark at the old woman. He turned and walked upstairs to head to his room to sleep. He briefly thought of getting a peep at Tess to see how she was doing, but thought better about it and decided to leave her rest. He was still feeling chilly and just wanted to take a hot shower and sleep.

Magda frowned as Dante took his leave. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders better and with an air of rather offended dignity, headed towards her chambers until Roy came out of the kitchen.

“She’s going to be sick, isn’t she?” he asked coolly.

“Yes. I will have to prepare some medical draughts for her. She’ll be very lucky if she doesn’t suffer pneumonia,” she replied with an apprehensive glare.

“Hrmph, they’re both lucky they’re not dead,” Roy grumbled.

She didn't reply as she headed for her quarters; just cast a rather apprehensive glare at him. The djinn responded to her look with a strangely calm one.

Roy sighed. Despite serving her for many years, Roy still failed to understand her. He didn’t really take her side unless he really agreed and that didn’t happen often. He hated taking sides, anyway. He only approved of the behavior of the two kids because he knew it was important to _change_ things. He felt that Magda had evaded the presence of demons and the problem they presented for too long. Despite their recklessness, the kids at least wanted to do something about it. And as far as Roy was concerned, Dante’s influence was doing Tess good; he made her step outside her comfort zone and take initiative that Magda would never have allowed her to.

Over the years he had served the family obediently, but his real allegiance lay with Tess, not her. Magda was no Templar witch; merely married into the family. Roy had little binding him to her than a promise to a now dead young woman. He’d made valiant attempts to maintain a balance between Magda and Tess exactly because he knew the history. Magda had lost both her husband and daughter to the plots of demons; once just a little neurotic, she eventually became a very bitter woman, whom age had not improved.

The estrangement of her daughter and the dubious past of her husband as an outcast from the coven his own family had founded had not done much to soften her attitude towards Tess. She cared for and loved her as a blood relation but the pain, bitterness and anguish Tess’ parents had brought her was still too raw to be forgiven. Roy understood her attitude, but he always disapproved of how she seemed to be taking it out on Tess.

The very next day, Dante woke so late it was nearly 2 pm when he got out of bed. Incredibly, he was still sore all over and feeling out of sorts even after a long sleep, but he was sure he felt better than Tess would be. Hungry and with the prospect of just resting for the whole day, he got out of bed and dressed, thinking of going to see what the redhead was doing. He made double sure that Magda was nowhere in sight before he moseyed over to her door.

He didn’t knock though, wanting to surprise her a little bit. Hoping the door was unlocked, he gave it a try. Feeling the knob turn all the way and hearing a click as it hit the end of its revolution, Dante smiled and moved into a room he had yet to explore. He was always curious about what Tess’ room looked like. The first thing he saw was a small couch with a couple of clothes strewn negligently on it.

Tess' room was just barely smaller than his, but looked more lived in. Various posters were stuck on the walls. Her windows had dusty blue curtains, drawn shut. A rice paper lamp fixture hung from the ceiling, along with a dream-catcher with black feathers near the window. Books lined a couple of shelves on the other wall. A pile of more books and magazines stood against the wall under the window, along with a table-light.

He spoke softly. "Tess?"

He heard the shuffle of covers and a small groan. “Hi…” she said weakly, sounding like she had a sore throat. 

He walked in towards a bed against the wall next to a closet. Tess was sitting up while a book lay open on her lap and the light was on. An empty mug with a spoon sat on her night-table. He chuckled a little bit as he walked closer, hands in his pockets. She was pale but her cheeks were red and she sniffled.

" _Guh_ , wait, don't get too close, I'm a mess. You want to catch this borderline plague?" she blurted, coughing.

She pulled the covers up to her nose, frustrated. She looked like roadkill, her hair the very definition of bed-hair. She was still in pajamas--all Dante could see was a T-shirt that must’ve been nearly two sizes too big. Her eyes were a little red around the rims. She sniffled a lot and coughed, and suddenly snatched a box of tissues and hid it under the covers. She looked completely embarrassed to be seen in such a pitiful condition.

“I hate being sick,” she croaked.

Dante was really glad she wasn’t as bad as he was afraid she’d be after that death-defying plunge into the lake and the brush with hypothermia. He smiled warmly, quite the opposite to usual antics with her.

"Aw, don't worry, I haven't been sick since I was three,” he chuckled.

He moved closer and finally sat down on the bed near her knees. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You know, Twig… I didn’t thank you for getting me out of the lake. I would’ve been deep-frozen fish food if you hadn’t. So…thanks,” he blurted.”I was kinda worried how you were, too.”

Tess groaned a little and he was certain she was blushing. “You’re welcome; thank you for not dying on me,” she replied shyly. “We cut it crazy close, didn’t we… And don’t worry. It’s just a bad cold,” she added and coughed. “How about you, feeling alright?”

“Sore, but fine!” He grinned a little. He really felt sorry for her. After all, she was more or less suffering for saving his bacon. “But, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do for you?” he offered.

She sniffled and before she could answer she suddenly pulled a tissue from the box and ducking to the side, she sneezed a couple of times in a row. Dante resisted the urge to laugh and just sheepishly blessed her. She sniffled again and when she spoke her nose sounded blocked. “Thanks, but I’m good for now. I just want to sleep this off. Grams has been feeding me these awful medicine potions.”

She made an expression like she wanted to vomit and she stuck her tongue out.

He chuckled a little at the way she spoke. “Alright. It’s a good thing Roy’s not gonna tan our hides. I don’t think he’s that mad at us. Can you believe it, he wanted to hear how we did. I think he’s proud of you for that move with my sword. He said he didn’t think you had it in you,” he said and nudged her a little bit.

She snorted and then coughed again, covering her mouth. "Yeah, trust Roy to go all nerdy about this. I knew he was going to drop that strict act sooner or later. Frankly, I think he _is_ kinda pissed at us, but he's probably too relieved we're back in one piece to whine," she said with a small sigh. "I wish I knew how I pulled it off. I never expected it to work, really. Grams tried to not look surprised, but she was. I had fun seeing that."

He chuckled and they fell silent for a moment. He figured she was as awkward as he was and thought it better to let her rest. He patted her shoulder softly.

“You know, Twig…I may make cracks about your size and poke at you…but you damn right shut me up last night,” he said and stood up, then slowly made his way to the door. “Fell better, will ya? Chasing down demons won’t be fun without you now.”

He smiled to hear her chuckle hoarsely. “Alright. Try not to get killed in the meantime,” she scoffed.

“You got it. I’m off to eat. See ya, bones.” He stepped out and clicked the door shut behind him.

Dante headed downstairs feeling pretty cheerful despite his soreness. As he neared the kitchen he smelled something appetizingly good and smiled. He walked into the lounge to find Roy over a pot, cooking.

"Hey. 'Nother masterpiece, old timer?" Dante said.

Roy looked over and smiled a little. “Always, kiddo. I've been cooking for longer than you can count," he chuckled. "She's got one nasty cold, doesn't she? I can only imagine, after jumping into that lake. She wouldn't have done better if she _tried_ killing herself.”

Dante suddenly sulked at that last comment and his expression turned sour when he walked up to the table and slumped in a chair. "Hey old man, it ain’t funny when I'm the cause. She risked her life for me, so it's no laughing deal."

To prevent the silence from getting awkward, he quickly added, "What _was_ funny is that that Frost-butt went down to a couple of kids. I thought he’d be tougher."

Roy snorted. "You're underestimating yourself. In matters of your age, yes, it’s weird. In matters of power thought, I'm not too sure. You two have potential--you, especially. You just need...motivation." He stopped a while to taste the stew and smiled in approval.

Dante watched as the djinn shuffled around, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the table. “I don’t know… feels like there’s still unfinished business.”

Roy nodded. “That’s true. You’ll have to watch out now. You do realize, I hope, that news of Chernobog dying will spread in the Underworld faster than you can say 'oh crap'. They'll be on your case sooner or later. Chernobog's master will be undoubtedly intrigued," he said, filling a bowl of stew for him.

He turned and left the steaming dish on the table. "I’ve already mentioned that your father’s insurgence left a mess of warring demons in the Underworld. Tess' old man was caught in that conflict. You _don't_ want to have the same fate, believe me. They'll try to pull you into that mess, even if they don't know who you really are. So make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Although he understood what the old man was talking about, Dante gave him a cocked eyebrow. "Me? Stupid? I don't think you give me enough credit." Absently he thought about that being a mess left behind by his father. Like so many others, including that idiotic dept that Tess was under till last night. He stirred his stew with his fork and mumbled, "Idiot old man of mine."

Roy probably heard him and while he was serving another bowl of stew on a tray, presumably for Tess. “Trees are judged by the fruit, not the roots,” he said gently.

He sighed, making a mug of hot tea for the tray meant for the sick witch. "You know…” he said awkwardly. “I didn't thank you for saving her. If there's anything I can do, just let me know. I'll take this up to her. Enjoy the stew!”

Dante had tasted the stew and winced a bit, halfway between a smile and a painful grimace. It was tasty, but still a little too hot to really enjoy. As Roy lifted Tess' tray, Dante stood up.

"Wait--do you mind if I take it up to her? I mean, mine's still a little too hot, so lemmie do that while it cools off," he offered spontaneously. He watched Roy anxiously, wondering how the old familiar’s reaction would be.

Roy raised an eyebrow and barely held back a smirk or a laugh. However he just shrugged, putting the prepared tray down. "Be my guest. But if she's sleeping, don't wake her up. It'll be worse than hell," he said, while preparing another tray that presumably was for Magda.

Dante smiled and nodded, picking up the tray from the counter and then going up the stairs to Tess' room. The only reason he was doing this was because he thought it’d be funny to see her expression and maybe tease her a little to cheer her up.

He balanced the tray on his hand in order to quietly open the door with the other. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and went inside, his eyes stopping on the curled form on the bed. So she _was_ sleeping. Stepping softly up to her bed, he rested the bowl on her nightstand, pushing the existent mug inwards softly. Looking over, he saw clumps of her hair poking from under the cover. He was torn between letting her sleep and waking her up so she’d eat something. He hesitantly put his hand out to touch her.

"She sleeps. Don't wake her."

Dante nearly jumped with a silent cuss. Magda had spoken gently but suddenly from the door. Dante whipped around quietly to meet her gaze and against his will, he felt his face get hot. The old woman stood at the doorway, dressed in dark clothing and stared at him very calmly but her appearance had a certain weariness to it.

“You startled me,” he muttered quietly while staring back bravely.

Magda merely smirked and moved over to Tess' still form. The girl was sleeping quite heavily. She’d likely dropped off right when Dante went downstairs. The old woman's features seemed to soften a little as she reached out and pulled the blanket over the girl better then moved some hair out of her face. For a second, there was almost a hint of tenderness in her look.

"Her fever dropped a little," she stated dryly. "You take quite an interest in her, don't you, Dante?" she added, almost slyly. She wasn't all too pleased with that fact.

Dante frowned at her tone. What the hell was her problem? Couldn’t she let up even _now_ , after they’d survived that mess? So what if he liked the little shrew!

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," he replied in a matter-of-fact voice that defied Magda's steely gaze.

He felt quite cocky, now that they'd beaten Chernobog and even more so after he’d gotten Roy on his side…even under those circumstances.

Magda stood straight and turned around to face him, hands clasped in front of her, in a dignified manner. She chuckled. "You shouldn't wear your heart on your sleeve so proudly," she said. "Otherwise it will end up broken too easily."

Dante frowned. "No offense, but I don't need you telling me how to live or whatever." He was pretty annoyed and he was sure it showed in his expression, but the old witch hardly seemed to care. "Look, we’re friends, okay? We like each other. I’m not one to pry but with your attitude, she sure as hell needed one" he said quietly. “What’s your problem, anyway? You can’t keep her caged up forever!”

"Fool," she said coldly. "That's her nature, to attach herself to anyone--to foolishly risk her life. She's naïve and ignorant to the ways of the world and she's ignorant in the manners of demons. She would have thrown herself into danger to save anybody. She doesn’t understand what she’s facing and it would be an early death for her. She isn’t made for the things you are.”

Dante frowned worse. “You don’t even know your own granddaughter,” he growled. “All you see is a weak and scared little girl because you blame her for something her parents did to piss you off. She’s got more guts and strength than you think. You keep pushing her away and it’ll be a lonely end for you.”

With that he walked out past her then went back downstairs, steaming. The funny part was that he felt about as angry as he felt awkward. Never in a million years had he imagined he’d be defending Tess’ integrity so fervently, to her own grandmother no less. Dante could tell by now that perhaps if Magda was different, Tess might’ve been less irritable and less prone to being so defensive.

Dante returned to the kitchen to find a now perfectly lukewarm stew on the table, but he was a little too irritated to enjoy it. The teenager mumbled quietly, as he sat at the table. "Old bag. Who the hell does she think she's talking to?"

As he sat there fuming and nibbling at his stew a little. He was still sitting there when Roy returned to the kitchen. He moved to the pot, presumably to get some stew himself, eying Dante carefully. He tilted his head sideways and stared.

"Goodness, now what happened?" he asked.

Dante looked up and then slumped in his chair with his arms crossed looking off to the side. “Just the old lady getting on my nerves. I'd rather not talk about it.”

"Oh. Magda gets like that. Ignore her," Roy chuckled. "She's pissed that she's not in control of you. That's all. She doesn't want Tess ending up like her mother," Roy said, rubbing his chin and setting his plate.

Dante chose not to go on to matters of how he and Tess got along and how the old hag seemed to want to get in the way. He did, however, inquire on a different subject that had been on his mind while they ate.

"Hey, Roy...how is it that some demons can pass through my father's seal?"

"Hmm, interesting question," he said, pausing to think. He broke a piece of bread. "My theory is that the seal, though extremely good --and I mean no offence to your father-- isn’t perfect. Minor demons, like those that require a medium to exist in this world just...slip through the cracks. The bigger, more powerful ones…well, there’s two possibilities. Either someone _summons_ them through, or they were here in the first place and were stuck here when the seal was placed.”

Not entirely satisfied, just Dante listened while eating the stew. “Theories…” he sighed.

Roy smiled wryly. “I know. But that’s the best I can do. I’m a djinn, Dante, I know a lot about demons, but only as enemies I have to protect myself against. I’m just as much of a learner as you are.”

They ate in silence for a little while and Dante considered something that was bothering him since last night. “Hey Roy… how good are you with fixing guns?”

Roy looked up. “I suppose I’m decent. Why?”

Dante suddenly leaned forward and drew Ivory from the back of his pants, putting it on the table and sliding it towards the old man. “This is why. Chern-o-thingy busted my guns,” he said dryly.

As soon as he’d started changing, Dante had taken notice of his guns. They were in pitiful condition and damaged after the big fight with Chernobog. He’d despaired, but remembered Roy bragging he could repair anything.

When the gun stopped in front of his dish, Roy stared down at the firearm, then picked it up and examined it rather expertly. "Ow. You poor baby; what did he do to you?" he muttered. He shook his head, looking at the big crack along the top of the barrel, the small dents on the slide and the chipped surface. He cocked it and shook his head at the nearly broken safety. "Goodness."

"Yeah!" Dante replied, taking out his second gun and sliding it across the table as well. "This guy looks better, but they could both use some work!" The black gun stopped in front of Roy to reveal its scratched, dented and chipped surface. "I’m a good swordsman, but I dunno, I tend to reach for the closest gun when a fight’s up."

Roy chuckled, setting Ivory down and pulling a slice of bread in two. "Yes, I get your point. Alright, I'll have a look at them. I don't mean to brag, but I'm a jack-of-all-trades, I can repair anything. I'll start work on them tomorrow. Maybe this will keep you out of trouble for a while."

Dante sulked and almost glared at him. “Hey, old man, these two have saved my life more than once, but I’m not going to sit on my ass like a good little brat while you dally around! If you can’t fix them fast, I’ll just take them to a gunsmith.”

Roy’s head snapped up from his dish and he looked offended. He bowed up an eyebrow.

"What smith?" he barked. "You won't find one in miles! Besides, are you challenging my ability to repair things?! Fine! I'll go start work now and starve myself to death! Bah!" the old djinn said.

He stood up angrily and picked up both guns, then trudged towards the basement. "And you bloody better not interrupt me while I'm working or I'll peg your face--permanently!"

Dante was taken aback at his explosion but still smirked. _So, the old man’s got buttons after all!_ _I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but wow, he_ does _take this seriously._

Feeling like he wanted to play around a bit, he picked up the bowl of stew and followed into the basement after Roy, his boots thudding on the creaky steps on his way down. It was damp and dark, like a cave, but surprisingly clean. A set of lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the basement and the pantry corner that he was familiar with by now with the laundry machines and Roy’s working bench off to the side. He grinned, seeing the old man stand over his bench; Roy was muttering to himself angrily, but had rolled his sleeves and he was looking down at the guns laid onto the workspace with a serious expression. Dante put the bowl down on the steps and backing up a step or two, he called out as if to a cat: “Roy! Dinner!”

A loud cat hiss was his reply, along with a few choice curses and Dante cackled a bit as he trotted up the stairs and back to his seat to finish his dinner. He’d never get tired of messing around with the old man.


	13. Final Warning

It was several days before Tess was well enough to get out of bed and for Dante to completely disregard what he’d just been through and start looking for more trouble. But things seemed to have cooled down again. Nothing really significant had happened, which made Dante quite bored. The very next day after giving Roy his guns for repairs, he had been raring for another fight, some more excitement to curb his frustration at the park’s near-disaster. He’d been sloppy and put someone in danger and that ticked him off.

Without much else to do, he took to wandering the city, tracking demons down and taking care of them. He’d checked out the park one last time but there was nothing there anymore, not even Bloodgoyles. It seemed as if Chernobog’s death had cleared the demons right out of there.

Dante got back to the house late that afternoon, his sword bloodied from combat. His clothes were merely dusty and crumpled, except for one particularly large tear. It reached across his back diagonally and ruined his khaki-colored tank shirt and coat; he’d probably need to ask Roy to mend that one later.

He’d just gotten out of a particularly amusing scrap with another one of those madmen and a bunch of Bloodgoyles. After the park incident, neither Roy nor Magda had done much to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, other than ask him to not bring it up with them and keep his escapades away from the building. There was no question of Tess venturing out; her cold was bad and Magda was too angry at her to allow her to go out and about; even more so with Dante. Roy was, for once, fully backing the old lady up. Dante was sure he’d let up eventually and let the girl have some breathing room again. While she was struggling to recover, Dante was killing his time by venturing around the city and dispatching demons.

With his sword on his back, Dante crossed the lobby while stretching lazily and then made his way for the stairs, boots thudding on his way up toward the bathroom for a shower. The lobby was empty again. He smelled something funny in the kitchen hallway, like a meal gone wrong. He would never get used to that; it must have been one of the herbal draughts that Magda had been forcing Tess to take for her cold. He felt sorry for her about those, but at least they did make her better.

Tess and Roy’s concerns that Chernobog was only part of the problem seemed to be confirmed. The whole city appeared to be sinking into a sort of collective delusion, where the murdering bouts continued, although they decreased in frequency. They had also noticed something more disconcerting. People seemed less rational, acting more aggressive and snapping easier. Roy heard rumors that hit-and-run accidents, drivers actively abandoning victims dead or on the brink of death, were on the increase, as were reports of abuse, assault and other violent crimes. Reason itself seemed to slip. Dante had witnessed other such occasions, of people just passing by acts of violence as if they didn’t even see them. He’d seen a couple more of those odd madmen in different places. In every case it was the same: maddened humans turning into demons. It was like a _disease_.

As Dante reached the floor landing, Tess' door creaked open and she poked her head out. She had bed-hair and was still wrapped in a dark purple blanket over a pair of cotton pants and a black sweatshirt. She was pale, probably from running a low fever and coughed. But she looked a lot better than she did a couple days ago when she couldn’t even stand upright.

 " _Psst_ ," she muttered. "Finally, you’re back. _Ugh_ , you stink like demon guts. Go get a shower and come downstairs. I got some things to tell you about," she said. “You’re interested.”

Dante registered but didn't stop. His first priority now was getting a shower. He gave a thumbs-up as he passed. He didn’t waste much time. He cleaned his sword, took a shower, changed and headed downstairs to meet her. Coming to the end of the stairs in the lobby, he looked around for any sign of either Magda or Roy. Neither of them was anywhere to be seen and satisfied that they would have some privacy, made his way to the kitchen to wait for her.

On her part, Tess had gone downstairs while Dante was in the shower and was taking advantage of Magda having gone to re-supply in essential herbs used in the potions she’d been treating Tess with. The girl shuffled around the living room in her grandmother's quarters. Looking over her shoulder ever so often, with the blanket still draped over her shoulders, she pulled open a cabinet’s drawer and picked a small tin box out of it. Pushing the drawer shut with a nudge of her thighs, she fumbled with the box, opening it and taking it out a seemingly mundane item: a deck of cards.

These cards meant something quite important to her, both sentimentally and practically. They belonged to her mother, who used them for meditation. Tess found other uses in them, but they had been out of her reach for a while; Magda wouldn't let her touch them. She held them in hand as she crossed the lobby, sneezing as she went. She smiled faintly, seeing him, as she got into the kitchen.

“You have a thing for red, dontcha?" she chuckled, looking at the red shirt he had on. 

Sitting in a chair and having a can of beer, Dante cocked a brow up. "So I like red. What of it?" he said, shrugging.

She bowed an eyebrow in turn. "So you like my hair too?" she chuckled. She sniffled a little, taking a seat opposite him. She placed the deck of cards on the table.

Dante just averted the gaze, pretending to roll his eyes. He didn’t answer the question, just mumbled something about wishful thinking.

“So what’s this?” he asked, nodding to the cards and then glanced at the fridge.

Tess guessed he was hungry--he’d often state how fighting demons worked up an appetite. “Tarot, but nevermind that now. I heard Roy mentioning that things are getting weird.”

“He’s right,” Dante said. “He told me he’s always sniffing out some demon or other when he’s out. Say, just what the hell does he do when he runs into demons? I’ve never seen him when I go out.”

Tess shrugged a little. “Kills them, I’d think. He doesn’t like them any more than we do.” She rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin. “Probably not a far cry from your habit of introducing them to your sword.”

“Ha!” Dante scoffed. “Still…I need my guns back. Last time I asked him about how the repairs are going he _snarled_ at me. Said something about missing some spare parts.” He took another sip of beer.

Tess chuckled. “Let him take his time, or he’ll half-ass it on purpose just to piss you off,” she said. “Anyway…I did some thinking and reading and I had a couple of ideas about what might be going on. Today I thought of a way to test it.”

Dante sat up with his elbows on the table now, much more interested in what she had to say. “Good. I've been running into pipsqueaks all along, I’m sick of the small fry,” he said, taking another swig of his beer. “Anyway, how do you know what they could be up to?”

“First things first. You’ve seen more of those strange madmen and their messy shenanigans, right? And they either kill themselves or get bumped off by you,” she said matter-of-factly.

Dante nodded. “Yep. And it’s the same deal too, they were turning into demons. Couple of them chickened out and bumped themselves off while I was tracking them down.”

“Then you see the pattern?”

Dante rolled his eyes impatiently. “I see it, but what the hell does it mean?”

“I have an idea about that. These killing sprees can't be random; they’re far too frequent and way too bloody for that.” Tess curled some hair around her finger. “And these…creatures. It’s one thing to become possessed but actual change out of the blue? _Spontaneous_ _demonification_ or whatever--it’s just not possible, not even with all the magical bullshit in the world. And then there’s all the shit going out with people’s behavior in general. You’ve noticed, right?”

Smirking at her comparison, he nodded, dully. “You’re right on that one. I’ve heard of the presence of demons affecting human behavior but an _entire city_ is a bit of a stretch.”

“Exactly. That alone just screams we’re not dealing with small fry. There’s some big-ass demon around but _where the hell is he?_ I snooped in on Grams a couple of times and she and Roy haven’t found anything either. Not like she cares about dealing with it, she just wants to avoid it. It’s all pretty fishy and it’s gotten me thinking. There’s a method to this, I just can’t work it out yet.” She picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them absently.

Dante gave a frustrated grunt. “I hate back-stage demons,” he muttered. “Why the hell don’t they just come out and act like they’ve got balls instead of being dodgy and hiding away? They’re fucking weaklings!”

Tess tilted her head to the side. “I don’t know… It could be that they have no other way to their means besides subversive tactics.”

“Roy said something like that. Some demons are trapped or whatnot,” Dante blurted.

Tess blinked. “That makes sense. You know…it could be that all this craziness is some kind of ritual. I just don't know what. Can't be for opening a portal to Hell; none of the usual signs for that are here and its range is far too large. This is different. But I’ve thought of a way that might help us find something," she added, placing the shuffled cards on the table between them.

Dante gave her a sideways glance then stared at the cards then back at her.

"It’s a long-shot, but Tarot helps me focus my second sight without going all ga-ga,” she said seriously. “We might be able to find something. You’re half demon, so I need you involved in this as my ‘link’, understand?"

Dante chuckled, put his hand on the deck and slid them across the table back to her. "Sorry. I'm not into _Tard_ cards. Demons are one thing, but I don’t believe in fortune-telling.”

She jerked her hand out from under the blanket covering her shoulders and stopped his hand from pushing the cards away. "You don't trust me? This isn’t fortune-telling. I’m going to focus my second sight. And don't forget it’s why you're not deep-frozen fish food at the park," she said.

Dante sulked and stared at her in the eye. After a moment's thought, he lifted his hand from the cards as if to say _‘Fine’,_ letting her have her way. “Do I need to do anything?”

“Yeah; pay some friggin’ attention and stop thinking this is a waste of time. I don’t want to get lame about ‘bad vibes’ and such, but with your aura, you could very well screw something up,” she said, taking his hand off the cards, shuffling and ‘cutting’ them before dealing them in a certain way. “I’ll do the work.”

Dante watched her closely, noting that she had a certain method in laying out the cards, face down. She started with six cards arranged in a cross-like shape, the vertical and horizontal parts made of three cards each, where the middle ones crossed over each other. Four more cards were laid out in a vertical line to the right of the cross shape. Every motion was calculated, done without haste. She seemed to be sinking into a ritualistic sort of movement, and he pictured her mind emptying of other thoughts.

After she dealt the cards and set the remaining deck aside and took a calm breath. Then she began turning the cards over, one by one, starting by the two overlapping cards of the cross shape: The Tower and the Ten of Swords. As she put her finger over each card to explain to him, she spoke softly and quietly, like she had fallen into a very light trance.

“The immediate problem, that which makes things difficult, is conflict,” she said, touching the Ten of Swords. “What we think is the result is in fact the battle itself. The city is fighting a losing battle.”

Her finger moved to the Tower. “This is the context; a threat that grows. This isn’t a small problem we can bide our time with and killing Chernobog has not made it go away.”

Dante attempted to ask her something but she quickly raised her finger to her lips to ask him to stay silent. Her expression and sharply focused eyes prompted him to obey and he allowed her to go on. She touched the next card, the Eight of Swords.

“This is what affects the present situation. It gets interesting. Something has been hidden or trapped…“

Dante’s eyes gleamed a bit with certainty. “Chernobog’s master,” he said softly. “Damn, Roy was right. We have a trapped demon.”

She nodded. “He’s acting through others because he has no choice.”

His interest was immediately renewed. He was never one for ‘magical bullshit’, but her conviction in her skill and knowing that her power had effectively saved his life, he let her go on, in case she could shed more light. “Where is he, then? What kinda demon we talking about?”

“Don’t clutter me with questions, I can’t slapdash this,” she hissed. “Keep the facts we already know in mind. What we find out might not make sense out of context.”

She flipped the next card, revealing the Chariot. “This is recent developments. Something is progressing--getting stronger. The demon.”

Dante stared, thoughtful. “What if that’s what these killings are about?” he suggested. “To strengthen him?”

Tess frowned at that suggestion. “I don’t know. It might.”Another card revealed itself; Temperance, _upside down_. “But this bad outcome could be very well it. The Temperance upside down spells trouble.”

“What kinda trouble?” he interrupted.

“The kind you get when a whole lot of power is without restraint. We're talking about bad things, if it’s fully released, but I can’t tell when this will happen, yet. And we know that even contained it’s doing a number on the city, you just said so yourself. Five of Clubs. This is going to be bad," she muttered, skeptical as she turned over the next card.

“How bad?” he asked, observing.  

“It’s something we’re going to have to face soon enough. If this unleashing occurs we’re going to have a lot of violence on our hands. It’s going to become personal, but I’m not sure how,” she replied, turning over the next card, which was the Hierophant.

“This is strange…” she muttered. “The root of this mess has authority of some kind--a high-ranking demon, perhaps. It’s odd…”

Dante shared her sentiment. “High-ranking? Funny, where’d he come from? If some way to Hell popped open I think we’d have felt it. It’d have stirred up too much shit to be ignored.”

Tess looked back, biting her fingernail with a thoughtful expression, but in the end she came up blank.  

“Is it possible he’s acting through a human? Like, the demon was summoned here? I mean, he’s turning crazy people into demons, isn’t he? What if he’s acting like that?” Dante asked. _If that’s the case_ , he thought to himself, _then this guy’s one hell of a backstage player_.

She smirked wryly. “I have no idea, but I don’t think there’s a middleman of that kind, the card’s would’ve shown it or we’d have seen some other sign. Here, look--“

She pointed to the cards again. “Eight of Swords is a prison, where I assume the demon is. But the Chariot means it’s about to break free. But I don’t think it’s your father’s seal being undone. It’s different.”

Dante mulled it over a little. She had a point; he knew enough of his father’s history to deduce that a demon breaking out of the Underworld with impunity would indeed have indeed caused too big a havoc to ignore. In the meantime she turned over another card to reveal the Knight of Swords.

“Well now we’re it,” she sighed. “You’re going to be involved whether we like it or not. And I just know you’re going to pull us along, kicking and screaming.”

“What?” he blurted. “I’m already involved, what do you mean?”

“I mean specifically with this. This card--“ She held up the Knight of Swords. “--is here to represent you. The Knight is temperamental and arrogant but a fighter. Right on the mark.”

Before he could protest, she flipped the next card. “And you stand on the Judgment. Interesting and alarming at the same time, if you ask me.”

“ _Huh_? Why?” 

“Because like I said, you’re going to be directly involved. It’s going to be too important.” She flipped the card next to the Knight of Swords, revealing the High Priestess. “Oh great, like I didn’t see this coming,” she sighed.

“What?” he blurted, although a sudden realization gave him a hint of what the High Priestess card meant. “Come on, finish that thought.”

Tess flushed. "Yeah well...that card," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s a card about intuition and deep understanding; wisdom and the subjective mind. Usually when she turns up next to a card it means that experience and intuition both will be important influences in the event and--" she saw that her rambling wasn't getting anywhere. "Okay, fine, it means I’m going to be involved too."

Dante chuckled "Really? A card representing wisdom, you think it relates to you?"

He laughed a little, just to tease her and break the tension, before relenting and motioning her to continue. “Go on, wise one, keep talking.”

She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "You're such an asshat sometimes. The High Priestess isn't just about wisdom--oh I'm not gonna discuss this with you," she said, flipping the last card.

Card XIII. Death.

Dante looked from the card to her. He expected some kind of dramatic explanation about the ominous card. He poked fun at her some more. "Oh, wise one, what does this card mean?" He chuckled at himself before slouching in his seat and throwing an arm over the backrest. Although interesting, this was getting somewhat ridiculous. “Does it mean I’m going to croak it soon?”

“Ha-ha, real funny. You’re killing me,” Tess scoffed. "It just means the end of an old situation and the beginning of a new one. I can't tell whether this is good or bad, it was the last card, the final outcome.” She pulled the cards back into the deck. “And I don’t mean expected changes. It wouldn’t turn up unless the change it’s warning us about is something that will affect us directly.”

“Whatever. I wish this stuff would’ve been more specific,” Dante grumbled. “You barely gave me anything to go on.”

“I know. I wish I could understand all this better myself. It kills me that this is all I can do,” she sighed.

Out of curiosity, she pulled the top card of the stash in her hand. She felt like cheating, since the particular spread had answered the questions concerning the demons. She was asking a personal question. She looked at it dully and didn't say a thing, before shoving it back into the deck and shuffling it then putting it away.

 _Three of Swords_. She hated that card. It was a card of separation, severing and loss. All the things she hated. Dante paid no attention to her peek at the last card, neither at the bothered frown.

“Still, if that demon’s trying to release himself…how long do you think we’ve got until he does? If we found him soon enough maybe we could catch him before he got outta hand,” Dante suggested, evidently trying to think of ways to track this demon.

In fact, he got so distracted that they spent a long moment in complete silence, which amazed her. She had never seen him so quiet or absorbed in thought.

“Are you _actually_ spacing out?” she scoffed.

Dante snapped out of it and squinted at her. “I’m thinking. You should know about thinking, wise one,” he retorted. “I thought you witches were good at keeping tabs on this kinda thing.”

Tess leaned back in her chair. "Hmph, well it’s good to know I’m not the only one doing the thinking," she muttered lowly.

He stood up and was heading for the lobby when he almost ran into Roy in the doorway.  

" _Gah_ , watch where you're going,” the djinn blurted. “I've been looking all over for you. Your canons are all ready."

He held up Ebony and Ivory; both guns looked brand new. Even their enamel now looked like it wasn't a day old.

Dante's expression switched from thought to pure delight. Wide-eyed and thankful, he took his guns from Roy and inspected them, bearing a smirk of satisfaction and gratitude.

“Wow, they look brand spanking new! Thanks Roy,” he quipped, twirling them happily and shoving them in the back of his pants. He slid past Roy, thanking him again and now setting his mind on another target: he was getting hungry.

Tess looked sourly as Dante went past Roy without so much talking to her, and just kept fiddling around with the cards. She was starting to get used to being given some attention by the half-demon, even if it was relentless teasing. Roy chuckled and headed into the kitchen.

"Anyone up for steaks tonight?" he said, rather cheerfully.  

Tess rolled her eyes. Men! She glared at Roy. "What, had your fun with his guns and now you're all sunshine and smiles? You're such a nerd," she said.   

Roy laughed that off. "Oh please. You're messing around with Tarot again and I can't be a little happy over a nice case of craftsmanship? I’m an old man; I only have that many little pleasures left. I don't get to work masterpieces that often."  

Tess huffed. "Whatever. You _blessed_ the guns. I could sense it a mile away and my detection skills are just a little better than Dante’s. He’s probably never gonna see it."

Roy protested. "He's going to need it! He's doing things with those guns that humans don't. They’d never handle the pressure if I didn’t fiddle around a bit! They need to live up to what he'll be doing."  

"Whatever," Tess repeated.  

Dante walked back into the kitchen, carrying another microwavable dinner, after having gone upstairs and leaving the guns in his room. When he entered the room, the two silenced and looked at him. “What?” he quipped.

Tess just rolled her eyes and coughed a bit, covering her mouth. Roy just smirked at him, a little offended.

"Right. I guess you're taking care of your own meal. You probably don't want a barbeque steak," he stated, moving to the fridge with an air of indifference. 

Dante's eyes widened. "Steak?!"   

True, he didn’t want to show much dependence or attachment to them, but he was sixteen. A juicy steak beat microwave meals by miles! And he had plenty of room! He tossed the meal packet onto the counter negligently and with a smile from ear to ear, said, "That sounds _goooood_!" He turned to Tess. "Steaks, Tess. _Steaks_!"  

Tess just raised an eyebrow at his excitement. "Yeah, so?" she said, smirking.  

Roy just laughed. "Don't spoil his joy, Tess. You know you love them too." 

"Yeah, but he’s acting like he hasn’t eaten in his life,” she laughed. Then she dropped a carefully crafted question. She always hit Roy with those when he was unguarded. "Hey Roy, I have a question. Besides breaking through a seal, what other rituals would involve a lot of carnage and blood?"  

Dante immediately perked up too after taking a seat at the table across her yet again. He watched intently, waiting for Roy’s answer. He seemed a little surprised as well at Tess’ bluntness.

Roy stopped shuffling through the fridge, turned around and looked over at her, then Dante, after the sudden question. He seemed a little surprised. Then he resumed his work, pulling a plate with some marinated steaks on it out the fridge. He spoke carefully, like a professor teaching class.

"Not many. Blood is life and vessel of the power of the being. Take that and you take the very life of a being. In opening seals, blood is needed to carry a force to open a seal. You could say it’s the _fuel,_ " he said, laying the plate on the counter. "In other cases it’s a sacrifice to gain power; presumably of those whose blood is shed...or to _nurture_."  

"Nurture?" Tess echoed him. "Like what, feed on blood? What is this, vampires?"

Roy shook his head. "Feed from _the power_ blood carries. Hell if I know how that's done. It’s foreign even to us djinn. That's really all I know."  

Tess sighed. "So we have no leads," she groaned.

She looked at Dante and during that moment of silence they pretty much shared a thought. They were skeptical about the real nature of a ritual demanding so large quantities of blood acquired in such a gruesome fashion.

“I know what you two are thinking,” Roy interrupted their musings. “Yes, the manner and seeming randomness of all this is not conventional. There’s something about this that’s strange. Chaos, madness and the arbitrary is integral to this.”   

Dante hung his head in frustration. He sighed heavily and stared at the tabletop for a moment, before he dropped a question of his own in the same blunt manner as Tess. "Roy, do you think that Chern-the-butter’s master was watching the fight?”

Roy snarled a bit at the sound of the name. "I don’t know,” he muttered, laying the tray with the prepared steaks on the counter, his back turned. He sounded like the mention of the particular incident still irritated him. “No demon with the power to subdue Chernobog can prance around undetected. But you know a funny thing about Bloodgoyles? The ones that share a blood-source share a hive-mind too. Many of them can act as one entity. Interesting isn't it?"

Tess just looked away, thinking about the things she had read in the Tarot. She thought audibly. "I think something bigger is going on. If Bloodgoyles can act as a hive-mind, then who says the ones that survived didn’t report back to their master? Something wants to get out of a cage...something like Chernobog's master."

Roy's reply to was curt, but rather absent-minded. "Nicely put."  

Dante shook his head, "Well, I'm convinced his master was there when Roy showed up that night and when we bumped him off.”

Roy shrugged. “He could’ve been, but not the way you think. I wouldn’t be surprised if those Bloodgoyles were made with that master demon’s blood to act like eyes away from his body. Give him a clear sense of what’s going on and what he’s after.”

The young slayer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, great. Disembodied eyes, hidden masters... tch, this is sounding more like a goddamn mystery novel than demons. Trust a senile old man to turn everything boring.”

Roy looked at Dante over his shoulder and glared at him with a rather nasty glare, his eyes turning amber for a second. "You think I'm going to keep taking your insults forever?" he growled.

Tess kicked Dante’s leg under the table softly. "Come on, quit baiting him," she said. "But I dunno, I think I agree with Roy on this. Chernobog's aura was enough to make me dizzy; if his master was around I'm pretty sure his aura would have knocked me out.”

Then she leaned back looking troubled. “Dante and me think this master of Chernobog’s is machinating all the madness going on in the city to use it to break free.”

“It’s very possible,” Roy nodded, picking up the tray to carry to the barbecue in the back yard.

Tess stopped him from leaving. "Hey Roy, do you know any old hospitals in the city that are abandoned?”

“Yes, one or two. Why?” the familiar replied.

Tess shrugged, blushing a bit. "I-I just keep having this nightmare all the time. I keep seeing what looks like a wrecked hospital hallway."

Roy paused, staring at her for a moment. “Tess,” he sighed. “I know you trust this strange sight of yours, but sometimes it really, _really_ worries me. You're getting into this too deeply; you should try going back to the basics."

Then he promptly walked out of the kitchen.

Dante huffed and glared at Tess, while rubbing his leg where she kicked. "If I knew it was a crime to contribute I'd have kept my thoughts to myself!" he snapped, folding his arms and frowning. “Back to basics… _pshhh_!”

“He meant that for me. He's got nothing against you" Tess said tiredly. She looked down. "He's not taking me seriously anymore. I still think that nightmare is I have so often has something to do with what's going on. The answer's right under our noses but we can't see it!" 

She watched him sulk. “Don’t tell me that I kicked you that hard. Come on, what kinda half-demon are you, yelping at a Twig's kick?"

Dante snapped back to his old self. "Well maybe you're one of them shape-shifting witches! You know, look like a twig, kick like a linebacker! Hell, put on a hundred pounds and you _could_ be a linebacker!" he growled, before he could stop himself.  

He cringed, certain she was about to either throw a fit at him or subject him to more snide remarks. To his surprise, she just stared, started to frown...but then smirked and chuckled.

"Man, sometimes the things you say are too funny to get pissed at," she said, covering her mouth and laughing quietly.

Dante had really expected to suffer her temper and so her amusement was strangely soothing. He found himself cracking a laugh at his own lame one-liner, and found that even when burdened with sickness, Tess could still be incredibly likeable once she stopped being defensive or worried. She became a completely different person and he was always pleased and impressed to see her smile—so much that for just a moment the task ahead, the lack of leads and the whole situation just didn’t exist.

Tess, in a better mood, stretched her arms over her head, flexing. "At any rate...I have a favour to ask you,” she said casually.

“Don’t hope for too much, Twig,” he said slyly and she just scoffed.

“You’ll like it, since you complain so often of being bored. I think I know where another of those murders will happen,” she explained. “The problem is... Grams has bound me. I can’t leave the house.”

Dante tilted his head sideways. “You’re...trapped?” he asked, trying not to sound a little disturbed at the extent of Magda’s stubbornness.

“Sort of. I suppose she’ll lift it when she’s done playing lady tyrant but that could take some time.” She scowled and pestered her hair again, coiling a strand around her finger. "She got so pissed that she bound me to the house with a spell. I can't leave or use witchcraft to work around it. So I can't come along," she coughed again. "Not that I’m totally okay anyway."

Dante shrugged. "Fine by me, I can take care of it. I mean, with Chern-the-butter gone, what could be left besides the big cheese? I'd rather you sit the next one out anyways. You know, let me do the prospecting on our new 'friends'."

 _Wow, did I just volunteer to do legwork this easily?_ As he thought about it though, he stood by it. He wanted to enjoy a good fight without having to worry about anyone but himself. Now _that_ was a good idea.

Tess smirked a bit. "Okay. Hold on then," she said, getting up.

She shuffled through one of the drawers, producing a pen and a piece of paper before returning to the table. "I had another vision last night and I’m sure it was a warning. Among others I saw a place I thought was familiar and this morning I realised it’s a small local clinic.”

She scribbled a quick map on the paper. “It’s the one near the store you go to, know that?”

Dante nodded. He knew what she was talking about.

“I’m worried because I saw a lot of blood in my vision, so I have no idea how many victims we're talking about," she said, circling the clinic on the map she drew. "I could see out a window in my vision and the sun was just going down, so it'll probably happen around the evening. You'd better go check it out as soon as you can." She then looked up at him with a weird look. "And do try to not get killed, this time I won't be around to save your arse."

Dante laughed and all he had to offer in reply was a "Pff!" He knew he could upset her, but added "You saved me, what, once?  How many times did I pull your thin, twiggy ass out of harm's way?"

He quickly went over all the situations he'd gotten in with her, considering that one time she saved him, he'd almost actually died and silently took back his retort, but let her carry on if she chose to. 

Tess just shook her head and handed him the map. "Whatever. Just go take a look. And about my ass...I bet you actually like it, or you wouldn't talk about it all the time," she countered cheekily, standing up.

She folded the light blanket she’d kept on her shoulders and leaving it on the chair, moved over to the counter make herself some tea. After her back was turned while filling the kettle, Dante nearly laughed; that last comment had been really bold of her. He stood to go throw on another shirt and as he did so, he stretched and yawned. He grunted a bit before stepping past Tess and suddenly patting her bum, leaning over and whispering in her ear: "You read me like a book." 

Tess jumped, freezing up, her mouth gaping open slightly. She almost dropped the ceramic mug and the teabag she was holding to make her tea. She slowly turned her head to him, her face very red and her eyes wide. She breathed out and glared. "You…" she mumbled, squinting at him a little. 

Dante glared right back, but with a smile. "Me," he echoed, in a mock-menacing tone.

He anticipated a thrashing or a tantrum from her, but at this point it didn’t mind. He'd gotten what he wanted for now: to surprise her and tease her, the rest was just gravy, be it sweet or sour.

But she seemed unable to help herself, and in unusually good spirits, laughed it off. “I bet you treat all the girls you know like this. So I'm not gonna fall for it. Now get, but make it fast or your steak's gonna be cold," she said as serenely as she could manage, pouring water in her mug and adding honey. She was calm, but still red in the face.

"Not _all_ the girls," Dante retorted and walked off, looking over his shoulder with a wide smile.

He couldn't believe how cool she was acting about it. He was almost certain she would’ve at least punched him again. He trudged upstairs and changed into another, long-sleeved shirt, one since the cold was getting a little bitterer around the house. When he got back into the kitchen it looked like he was just in time. Roy was setting spots around a plate of five or six sirloin steaks, roasted on the backyard stove, and Tess was dressing a salad that she had probably just chopped.

Roy looked up at him as he came in and faintly smirked. "Hope you like them well done," he chuckled.

Tess put the bowl of salad on the table. She eyed up the stakes and rolled her eyes even as she smiled, getting a couple beer cans from the fridge as well. "Always cooking for a battalion, Roy. It’s just the three of us."

Roy shrugged. "You're kids, you need food to grow. And you, miss, better start eating more. Dante's right, you're a real stick and you look worse since you caught that cold."

Tess frowned, sitting down. Dante laughed in agreement and sat down too. The smell alone from the steaks made his mouth water, not to mention that fond memory of getting a handful of Tess. Strangely that alone made the day a whole lot more interesting! He picked up and cracked open one of the beer cans with a gleeful smile.

"I love you guys,” he said and took a big gulp.

Tess chuckled, and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever, you’re just saying that because we’re feeding you. If you weren’t pitching in with the expenses you’d be such a freeloader," she said, serving herself a load of salad seasoned with dressing.

Roy glared at her a bit and poked a juicy steak with a fork, unceremoniously slapping it on her plate despite her muffled objections. "Eat it. You're not gonna help your cold otherwise," he ordered, slapping another one on his plate. "Help yourself," he told Dante, as he opened a can of beer for himself.

Dante didn't shy away at all after he was offered. He took the first steak he saw, prodding a fork into it and pulling it to his plate. He then started carving away greedily. He took a big piece of steak in his mouth and groaning at the pleasing taste in his mouth.  

"Damn, what do you do to these?” he said. "I didn't know heaven tasted like steak!" 

Tess rolled her eyes. "Ass-kisser" she said, sipping some beer.  

Roy laughed, covering his mouth with his napkin. "Little secret from the Middle East," he chuckled. "Been doing it for a couple centuries and it’s still good." he smirked, rubbing his chin.

After dinner, Roy was picking up the dishes once they had all finished. He was still upset because Tess seemed to have eaten little, but the girl was content with one steak and a helping of salad. She went upstairs after dinner, saying she wanted to sleep, but she just sat on the ledge of her window and looked absently at the snowy street outside. She was still very concerned as to where Dante was headed by her own prompt. She didn’t like the feeling of sending him off by himself, partly because she felt it unfair, like she was ordering him, and partly because she longed for some action herself. But, with the bind set on her, there wasn’t much that she could do about it.

Dante had retreated to his room for a short while after dinner, but when someone knocked on her door, she almost knew it was him before he stepped in.  

"S' open," she said dully, still sitting on the windowsill and looking outside. 

He walked in boldly, his sword secured to his back and his guns tucked in their holsters, and came right up to her. They looked at each other awkwardly and Tess realized he could see the envy written all over her face.

“I'm heading out. I'll be back soon, tell you what happened, ‘kay?” Before she could answer, he put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her skin under the shirt and added: "I know it pisses you off but I’m glad you’re not coming this time. Rest up." 

Tess stared back a little surprised by his forwardness. She smiled a bit awkwardly. "Yeah, I will. I'll just goof around and read a book. Be careful, you never know what those things are gonna pull off. And try not to get lost," she said, smirking.

Dante did not lose his smile. "It’s either gonna be the demons or getting lost that gets me,” he chuckled.

“Just get back in one piece,” she said suddenly, and her face coloured. “Get this over with. I...have a really bad feeling about this. Don't keep me up all night. I want to hear the tale, so make sure you can come back to tell it.”

Dante held his arms open as he backstepped to the door, and casually said "Hey...it's _me_ we're talkin' about!"

He left her room with a confident smirk, strangely careful not to say goodbye and was out the door very quickly. It was a pretty peaceful night, and he almost refused to believe something would happen. He didn’t know he’d left Tess suddenly feeling regretful about telling him to go and wondering what sort of trouble she’d sent him off to.


	14. The Scale Is Tipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things go really, really badly.

Tess was still looking out of the window when Magda’s sharp, scolding voice came from behind, startling her.

“What have you done?!” the old woman hissed.

Tess jumped around to face her. Magda had probably crept up behind her after hearing her exchange with Dante and seized the girl’s arm suddenly, holding her still. Tess looked back at her, startled at her grandmother’s look. Magda looked alarmed, almost terrified and angry at the same time, with her eyes wide and her hair a little ruffled.

“Grams, what--“ she started.

“What have you done?” the old woman repeated in demand, shaking Tess slightly. She looked furious. “What do you think you’re doing, foolish girl!? I know you took the deck--I told you not to touch such a thing again! You are _disturbed,_ don’t you understand?! You’re worsening your condition with your thoughtless behaviour!”

Tess fought back, trying to pull her arm away from her. “I’m not crazy! I never lied! I saw things happen--and then they do happen! Let go of me! Why can’t you just believe me?! Are you blind or something?!”

Magda relinquished her arm and then _slapped_ her across the face, angrily. “Stupid girl! I _do_ believe you. I know what you can see and hear. I’ve known for long. But it will kill you,” she said, with a tone as dry as bones and Tess felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under her. Magda had always tried to suppress what came naturally to her and now she realized that it wasn’t disbelief. It was fear.

 “You have no right, no _reason_ to meddle with Sparda’s son, particularly now and you certainly do not have any reason to immerse yourself in the conflicts of demons. It is not your place!” Magda hissed at her, as Tess just stood there, her face still stinging from the violent slap.

“This is my final warning,” she told Tess as she stared her down. “If I catch you meddling in demons’ affairs one more time, for whatever reason, I will punish you in the most severe manner. Do you understand?”

“...Fine,” Tess replied dully, looking right through her.

“Look at me when I speak to you!” Magda insisted, making Tess focus. She had a worried, shrewd look. “Things are becoming very dangerous. And you know very well who is to blame! He brought it all on us when he arrived here and it is _you_ who let him in!”

“That’s not true,” the girl replied suddenly, without looking away. “He never meant for anything to happen. If anything, _I_ brought him more trouble than he deserves.”

Magda glared her down, angrily and shook her head. “Regardless. The moment he comes back I am sending him away. I cannot take any more of this.”

Tess looked up suddenly. “You can’t do that,” she blurted.

Magda eyed her with a sarcastic smirk. “Is that so?” she challenged her. “You’re turning like your mother more and more. Taking a liking to the Underworld’s kind.”

“Don’t do that,” Tess insisted. “Don’t you _dare_ put him on the same league as them. He’s--they’re nothing to him at all.”

Magda looked at her with hard eyes for a moment. Then she just turned around and left the room, leaving the girl to bring her hand to her sore cheek, although she didn’t looked pained. This wasn’t the first time Magda had slapped her.

Meanwhile, Dante walked down the street leisurely in the evening light, with his hands in his pockets and his coat shuffling behind him softly as he walked. The evenings were still cold, but not nearly as bitter anymore and the wind had had died down at last. He made haste, almost jogging to the place Tess had indicated. Luckily the map was easy to follow and Tess’ directions were very straightforward. He finally got there after some ten minutes and looked up at the small clinic.

It was only two storeys tall, housed in a contemporary building that was probably built in the eighties or early nineties, with a set of tinted glass doors in the front under a modest sign. It was half a block wide and looked pretty well kept. It stood on the corner of a street, with the road on its left side and an alley on its right side. He couldn’t see, hear or sense anything suspicious yet. The sign above the door was dark, but some dim lights within and figures passing by lit windows showed there was some activity inside. That had to mean nothing had happened so far.

The sun was just going down and things were quiet, unlike Tess’ predictions. Dante waited around for a few minutes, watching sharply for any presence of demons but there was nothing. However, the lack of evidence made him suspicious. There was just something in the air that got his hackles up, with that distinct heaviness that settled whenever something was about to happen. It was a feeling Dante was very familiar with by now. He was about to walk up to the building and take a closer look inside, while _almost_ having decided that Tess’ ‘premonition’ had been wrong. As if to confirm his suspicions, the silence grew even more intense; suddenly there wasn't even the sound of the wind. He tensed; something was nearby. He took a few steps closer to the building.

The next thing he knew, a loud noise like glass smashing startled him and then there was a loud crash from inside the building. Another sound of breaking glass made him look up. He only just caught sight of something being flung out of one of the windows of the clinic’s façade. He couldn’t see what it was until it completed its arc and fell on the ground with a strange squishy sound, almost with something cracking. The object’s momentum made it roll numbly towards him, nearly stopping at his feet.

It was a human head, a man, with a terrified expression petrified on his warped face. The head had been torn off the body with what seemed to be bestial force as the cut was not clean and part of the man’s spine protruded from the neck.

Dante shivered and took a small step back. “Perfect,” he muttered, feeling pissed off. It seemed he was too late.

He was about to storm into the building when another sound of shattering glass came from the side of the building facing the alley. After a brief silence, he heard something landing on the ground in the alley with a thud. Dante approached the alley cautiously. He thought he saw what looked like a small red light, floating among the shadows and a slight growl echoed from there, along with a faint shuffling sound, like claws against concrete.

Dante took quick notice of sudden movement and rushed to the entrance of the alley, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He couldn't see the figure; only that ominous red light—an eye.

"Come on, don’t be shy!" he said, to no one in particular. He removed his sword form his back and waited, unsure of how big this creature was.

A sharp snarl came in reply then the being staggered out of the shadows. It was taller than him, lanky and walked with a drunken gait. Its dried hide was black with red, bulged veins running all over it, popping out of the leathery skin. It had a human-like standing but its legs looked reptilian. Its head was triangular and thin like a wedge, with a wide maw that looked like it was locked in a twisted smirk. Its arms looked equally long, but they were trapped in a black straightjacket of sorts and fastened against its chest with belts and buckles. One eye was large with a solid blood red colour, without a pupil; the other seemed to be covered by some kind of goggle that looked filled with a red liquid and a bright white dot in the middle like an iris. The dot spun around independently from the other eye like a chameleon's eyes.

The creature's step was uncertain and funny but it had four toes tipped with huge claws, one pulled back off the ground like a velociraptor's, only twice as large. It walked with a slight hunch, limping and swaying from side to side, struggling in its own straightjacket. It opened its mouth slightly and snarled, revealing sharp triangular teeth and a long black tongue that ran over the teeth in hungry anticipation.  

With creaking and squishy sounds, two long articulated limbs, like a bug's shot out of its back and touched the ground, like additional legs. It stood there, across Dante, snarling and letting a sound like a madman's cackle.

Dante watched the demon claw itself into the light and his eyes narrowed. In all the years that he had been messing around with demons, nothing had been quite so… _disgusting_ to his eyes yet. The appearance of this monstrosity, reeking of rot and decay, made even him sick, but it was the sensation of palpable madness that it gave off that really gave him a turn because he had never felt anything even remotely like it. His demonic side took it with little strain but he felt his human side crumple a little—he physically felt part of himself become ill. He struggled to resist, to compromise the two sides but it was too much. Eventually he doubled over and against his better judgement and struggles, threw up a little over the paved alleyway before wiping his mouth and regaining his stature.

He groaned a little, as the realization that he had allowed a demon to shake him up that bad sank in and got him pissed. And that gave him back most of his arrogance and pushed down his shock. He gripped the sword tighter and gritted his teeth.

The demon then lurched at him, surprisingly fast, the two bony bug-legs coming up over its head to strike him. A light drizzle began, tattering on the still lingering snow and the slayer did his best to keep it together. Gripping his sword so tight that his knuckles turned white, Dante took a step forward just as the demon charged him with those freaky appendages. His stomach settled within seconds and he brought his sword up to defend against the demon's over-head attack.

The demon's appendages recoiled against the sword with a loud clanging sound, as if they were made of metal. The demon screeched and pulled its limbs back, jumping back and then lunging again, this time the limbs moving to the sides to strike in a pincer attack, while its arms still thrashed in its straightjacket, as if it wanted loose. Its black, long tongue slithered out its mouth and licked its ugly maws, covered in sticky drool and blood from its earlier slaughter. Its glass eye spun around madly.

Dante dove forward and rolled under the demon’s swipes, coming to a crouch under its head. The demon’s limbs sliced nothing but air. He shoved his sword through the demon's bottom jaw and the blade cut right through the top of its head. 

"Not very bright, are you?!" he grunted, smirking. It was too easy.

The demon threw its head back and let a high-pitched roar, flailing and thrashing the appendages coming out of its back. One of the appendages came back around sharply and thrust Dante in the gut, breaking his grip with his sword and sending him some feet back, sliding along his shoulders. His eyes widened. It had hit him with that feeble-looking insect leg and yet Dante felt as if someone had smacked his chest with an anvil!

The sword was still stuck in the demon’s skull and it thrashed around, its arms still thrashing in the restraint of the straightjacket. The sword was flung out its head as it flailed and the creature hunched over, glaring at Dante. A white, gooey liquid dripped from the wound along with blood, but it rapidly clotted and formed a white and red crust or scab that began falling off revealing fresh new skin under it.  

Dante winced a bit; that _thing_ regenerated fast.

The creature snarled and suddenly spoke in a rasp, throaty voice, mixed with a constant throaty growling and wheezing. "You. You call me a _foooool_ , _hrrrgh…_ " it managed, before it took a throaty breath, snarling. "Yet _youuuu_ are the one-- _hurrrrr_ \-- that does not know _aaaaanything_. A _chiiiild_!" it wheezed. It sounded like it was chuckling in a horrifying wheeze.

It lurched at him again, jumped high and coming down towards him, pointed its legs' talons and the bony appendages towards him, screeching. Its tongue whipped in and out of its maw.

Dante couldn’t reach his sword with the demon standing over it, but drew his trusty guns, and aimed carefully; one at each eye. He shot, as the demon was halfway to him then dove out of the way as the monstrous, disgusting beast landed where he had stood, with a loud thud and its eyes put out. Dante caught a whiff of the demon and dry-heaved. Never before had something he faced been so disgusting that it made him sick to his stomach again.

 _Man, nothing on earth could be so hideous!_ He thought, reminding himself forcibly that this embodiment of filth was spewed out straight from Hell.

“Child, huh? Way things look, buddy, I'd say you're getting _your ass_ handed to you by a kid, then!” he cackled over his shoulder as he came to his feet.

The demon let a high-pitched scream and thrashed angrily, screeching and grunting. The same white fluid as before replaced the blood dripping from its eyes and the puss-like liquid fizzed and clotted. The demon turned back to Dante and he could see the clotting white stuff form crust and fall off in flakes, revealing its eyes healed under it. The demon thrust its insect-like appendages into the concrete with a crackling sound and a noise of burrowing came from underground, before they shot out from the ground under Dante, trying to pierce him.

"I _haaaaave_ patience... _hrrrrrgh_..." it snarled with a wheeze. "Your ignorance is _amuuuuuuusing_ though-- _hrrrrssss_. Tell me, _chiiiild_ , do you enjoy _fuuuuuneralsssssss_?"

Dante looked with wide eyes at the demon’s display of regeneration, that puss-like fluid churning his stomach. He ignored the demon’s taunting and evaded the ground-borne attack by taking a few quick steps back. He leaned back and picked up his sword, bearing his blade at the limbs about to attack repeatedly.

"Not nearly as much as I enjoy getting rid of things like you! Killing is my business! And business is _good_!" he growled.

The stingers hit the blade dully and backed into the ground again as the demon pulled them back. It snarled at him, eying him up slyly. It opened its maw and let a shrill roar at him. It then reared its head back and with a loud scrunching sound it spat a dark glob of some sort of _goo_ at him. The look alone of the glob spelt trouble. But it didn't content itself to spitting that glob at him, it then jumped into the air again, using its limbs to latch onto the wall of a building. From there it leapt from wall to wall till it was behind him and jumped down with its leg's claws pointed at him, screaming.

Dante was not expecting his face to suddenly get covered by that mucus-like stuff that hardened over his nose, mouth, and left eye. It came so suddenly that he never had time to dodge. He groaned and stumbled back, thrashing a bit and unable to breathe. He was forced to ignore the demon’s next move, though aware of it. As the demon jumped, Dante raised his sword and slammed the spike-adorned pommel of the blade against the mucus, piercing it and causing a crack along the substance. He then ripped the largest piece of his face and only had enough time to swing his sword upwards as the beast came down on top of him with a powerful momentum and all its massive weight.

Dante’s knees buckled under the weight of the demon and its momentum, while the stench suffocated him. The impact cracked the concrete beneath them and spewed mud particles into the air. The demon thrashed, either in midst of a raging attack, or writhing in pain. Protruding from the demon’s back was the tip of Rebellion, the blade disappearing into the demon's flesh until finally the hilt poked out from under the monster's abdomen. The demon was suspended over him in an awkward position and he was pinned under it. However, the teenager was no winner yet. Dante grunted at the sharp pains of two deep wounds; the demon’s appendages had sprung from over its back and pierced his chest straight through, one of the two passing inches away from his heart.

The demon snarled at him, despite the blade almost ripping into its spine. It gleefully burrowed the appendages deeper into Dante's chest, as it touched the ground with its feet properly. It lifted a leg and then slammed it down on him, the raptor-like claw shredding the teenager's chest. It chuckled in a cruel, throaty manner, spewing blood and bile as it laughed, slowly at first and then gradually growing more and more hysteric.

"You _amuuuuuseeeee_ _meeee_ , boy! _Huuuurk!_ _Itssssss_ a pity...a _pityyyyy_ , you'll be too _caaaaaaaaught_ up in your -- _hrrrr --_... _ooooooown_ _deathhhhh_. _Hsssss!_ You'll miss the _fuuuuuneral_ of that... that little _frieeeeeeeend_ of _yoursssssss_... ahahahahaheeeheeheeheee!!" the demon chuckled, wheezing every time. "Too bad you're one of _uuuuuuus_... There won’r even be a _prrrrrrrroper_ death for you! _Hrrsssss..._ ahahahah!” it went on in another fit of hysteric laugh. Despite it a demon, the way it talked and how it sounded were unfailingly human. Such pettiness and arrogance were signs of a human mind.

But in speaking, it made Dante realize what was going on: This was just a diversion. This thing had been here just to draw him away from the building, and that every moment he wasted here could put Tess in danger. And with Magda’s binding, she couldn’t flee or fight back. He felt stupid; he'd been so sidetracked by his arrogance to find some trouble that he'd strayed too far from those who needed his protection. That all-too-familiar feeling of guilt hit him.

A thought shot through his head. _After mom died, I swore to myself I wouldn’t fail like that again. I failed to protect her. I REFUSE to fail like that again!!_

Although he had no way of being certain, he had a horrible feeling that he was needed back at the boarding house, and instead he was messing around with this freak. This tangle of feelings of loss and despair lasted only a moment before he grit his teeth and the blue of his eyes sank into red while bitterness and justified anger flooded him. His grip around the sword hardened.

“No way I’m gonna let a shit like you take me down...” he growled quietly.  

He looked up under furrowed brows and behind white strands of hair and forced his sword out of the demon’s side, slicing through its ribcage and sending chunks of demonic flesh and blood flying into the air and pavement. The demon snarled and screeched, stumbling back then it fell to the side and writhed after the sword cut a deep gouge into its body. As it tumbled back, Dante slashed at the stingers and cut them off, while they were still in his chest. He shoved the demon further back and heaved himself out of the dent in the street. The demon let a sharp howl when Dante got away, but he didn’t hear it following him.

He ran as fast as he could back to the building, sheathing his sword and hoping along the way that he wasn't too late. He’d never backed out of a battle before, but this one time he was growing desperate. Ensuring the safety of the people he’d left behind, especially Tess, was more important than his ego. He didn’t even pause as he ripped the remains of the stingers in his chest out with squishy sounds and small sprays of blood.

The streets were empty and the silence was frightening. It was as if it was devouring every sound; his breath, his footsteps, his heartbeat, even his thoughts. The snow had been melting slowly during the day and the air felt heavy with moisture and a strange feeling of sorrow. As he turned around the last corner before the building, Dante noticed traces of what was left of a massive protective circle on the ground around the building. There were remains of lines, runes and other symbols. They were smudged, burned and warped, as if something had trampled over these signs of protection and broken them. But that was nothing compared to the damage the building took.

The ground in front of the building and especially around the doorstep looked like a battlefield; remains of demons and more madmen like the ones they'd seen before littered the area. The front door was broken off, lying in front of the steps with a large crack on it. There was a lot of blood everywhere and cracks scarring the concrete and pavement. A little ways from the broken door, across the gapping open doorway, in a puddle of blood, lay a tall, battered body. Roy was face down and didn't seem to be moving. The building itself was dark and only faint noises came from inside.

Dante stopped dead in his tracks, seeing the savagery before him then walked slowly in disbelief, stepping in small puddles of blood. He strode right up to the djinn and crouched down, hoping Roy was, at the very least, just knocked out, his disbelief replaced by concern. He felt for a pulse quickly and though it was faint, it was there and Dante sighed in relief. Roy was still alive. Dante carefully turned him over and cringed upon seeing his face and heard a throaty grunt coming from him.

The entire right side of Roy's face was more of a piece of mangled meat than a recognizable face, covered in blood. His right eye was gouged with a nasty wound and it looked gone forever.

“H-hey, Roy?” Dante said, hesitantly. “Still with us, old timer?”

The djinn groaned and coughed a mouthful of dark blood. His single eye shot open and spun wildly as the battered body went tensed and trembled briefly. He raised a bruised and slashed arm and gripped Dante's coat, tugging hard.

"Get her...out of there!" he ordered sharply, his eye glazing over. "For God's sake, get her out of there! They surprised me!" he grunted, his grip loosening and he leaned on his elbow, panting with his head hung. "Go!" he shouted. "Never mind me, I'm too old to croak it just like this! Go get her out of there! _Now_!!"

Dante's surprise lasted only a moment, before his eyes grew determined and he nodded sharply. He frowned with fury as he stood and ran to the door and went through the warped doorway, reading to draw his sword for anything. The carnage that confronted him reminded him painfully of what had become of his childhood home. What had previously been a welcoming home was now a battlefield. The counter in the lobby was a little more than splinters blown about the floor, which was cracked and dotted with holes and cracks.

Some Madmen, already fully turned into demonic remnants of men were wandering around the ground floor. No doubt they were crawling all over the building. One was squatting down where the service counter had been before and was tearing away at papers and logbooks stored there. His crazy look shot up as he caught wind of Dante, and with a croaked scream he stood up and trudged towards him, wielding a rusted gardening machete.

Dante barely paid it enough attention to draw Ebony and pointed it at the Madman’s face, letting it come so close it almost touched the muzzle before he fired the .45caliber into his face a couple of times. The Madman’s head swung back as two bullets blew a large hole through the skull, obliterating his face. He toppled over backwards, splattering blood all over the floor.

Dante had a quick look around the ground floor, shouting Tess’ name and even looked into the kitchen, and when he found nothing, he raced up the damaged stairs. He shot down a couple more Madmen that had been wandering the staircase and the first floor landing, as he raced upwards, screaming Tess’ name. He could hear more noises from upstairs. At the second floor corridor, his heart gave a jump. Tess' door rested against the opposite wall, warped and fresh from attack, judging by the smoke rising from it.

He ran over, looked in her doorway and called for her anxiously. “Tess!?”

The room was a disaster. The couch had been knocked over in a fashion that showed she'd probably dragged it in front of the door to barricade the room. The bookcase was lying on its face, broken and the closet had fallen onto the bed, cracking it. The floor lamp was shattered, as was the window. Scorch marks on the walls showed the girl had put up a fight. There were ugly scratch marks from large claws all over the walls and the floor, some of them bloody. He frowned angrily at the sight of the blood.

 _That…better not be Tess’,_ he thought furiously.

But the room itself was empty. A sound came from a corner of the room and looking over Dante could see on the wall, near the floor, an air-duct grate lying on its face. Multiple scratch-marks were on the wall around the duct itself, like something had tried to squeeze through, but was unable to and had thrashed there in anger. The air duct was narrow, but looked as if a thin girl about Tess' built could've squeezed through.

 _She didn’t…right?_ he thought, going over to check it out.

But she had. Tess was frantically crawling her way through the dark air ducts under the floor, on her elbows. After crawling through her room’s duct, Tess had moved along for a few feet and then slipped through a vertical shaft and estimated she’d ended up in the first floor’s air duct system. It was dark, full of dust, cobwebs and a suffocating, claustrophobic sensation; it brought her ugly memories of the night her parents died. She had been trapped in such a small space like this back then too. Now she felt equally defenceless and scared. The claustrophobic feeling was choking her and she could feel the footsteps of a demon on the floor above her and it felt like it was walking all over her.

She paused for a moment to listen; she could hear the demon scurrying on the floor hectically, snarling and letting whistling and screeching sounds. When she’d seen it during its initial attack, it was tall, skinny, a disgusting crimson colour and bony, shaped like a long-limbed bird or a lizard. Its head was oblong and narrow, like a wedge, perched on a long neck. It had pointed ears. It bore a muzzle of sorts that kept its mouth closed, but drool dripped from the holes allowed for breathing. It had 3 pairs of horns on its bald head, set close to each other in two rows along its head, above the eyes, and a line of smaller spikes running down its back. Its arms were deformed into bat-like wings with only a thumb and a finger, donning sharp claws, free to move. Its legs were long and bony and it had a long and smooth prehensile tail like a lizard’s. Tess gulped. She could almost imagine its yellow eyes fixed on the floor, as if it knew she was under there, and was waiting for a sign that would give away her position.

Struggling to make even her breath quiet, Tess crawled along, trying to reach the duct of the porch where she could find some way out. She had no idea where Roy or Magda was. When the Madmen came charging in after the circle simply collapsed, her senses became too confused by the demonic aura that flooded the place and her panic had done little to help. That creature stalking her turned out to be invulnerable to fire; she couldn't even hurt it. It was as if it had been designed _to hunt her down_. She panted as she pulled herself along the narrow crawl space.

Bad memories were still flooding her. She could almost hear her mother screaming as demons tortured and dismembered her in rage and her father’s shouting of despair and anger, his helplessness to save the family he’d suffered for. She had been trapped under the floor crawlspace, like now, and had to suffer it all. And then they came after her.

Tess wasn't even sure where she was going when suddenly the metal under her elbows dented with a loud sound, making her gasp.

That was all that the demon needed. Tess heard its loud screeching before the sound of the floorboards exploding as it rammed its arm-wing through them, smashing the floor and the metal shaft. She tried to crawl away from that spot in a panic as the demon tore the floor open. She screamed when a pair of claws grabbed at her ankle and dragged her back and out of the floor like a rat. Splintered wood and torn metal raked her back and clothes and she struggled against it, flailing and kicking, but the demon just seized her by the back of her neck, holding her up. She came face to face with the horrible creature and froze up in panic, screaming.

She was expecting the worst when she heard her name being called and Dante came barrelling in from the staircase, eyes blazing. The demon screeched in surprise and jumped aside to avoid him but it never let go of her and Tess got yanked along with it, choking shouts and flailing. She almost didn’t see Dante dive at her with his gun drawn, which he rammed into the joint of the wing with which it was holding onto her and fired a shot. The crack of the shot covered the demon's grunts and shrieks; made at contact it was brutal but Tess was unharmed even though her ears were ringing. The joint was blown apart with a spray of blood and the girl was released from the deathly grip.

She felt her feet hit the floor and could finally breathe freely. Her knees buckled and she slumped into his expectant arm, while Dante shot a few more rounds into the demon’s face, pushing it back. She panted and gasped, while her head was buzzing with the intense feeling of demonic auras all over the place.

“Get behind me,” Dante growled, keeping his eyes on the demon and nudging her to get behind him gently.

The demon drew back the stump that was left of its wing’s tip and howled in pain. The free-moving claws from its hand were simply gone and the top of its wing was torn. It jumped back, latching to the wall like a lizard and glaring at Dante, growling and keeping its eyes on Tess. Tess stared back, scared witless and gripped at Dante’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t fight it...!” she blurted. “It shook my fire off like it was water...”

“It’s okay,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the demon and preparing to either shoot it again or take his sword to it.

The demon shrieked at them, making them both shudder at the shrillness and then suddenly launched itself upwards, shooting through the ceiling, making splinters and debris fall below, leaving a gapping hole in the ceiling. Loud scratching noises came from the floor above.

“D-Dante," Tess stuttered, weakly. "It's coming back."

Dante panted, probably from excitement and anger, rather than effort. Tess was infinitely relieved to see him and stood behind him, shaking from shock and fear. She wiped her cheek, feeling a small cut that was bleeding a little. Other than that though, she was unhurt and grateful that Dante got there in time to keep it that way. He was looking up at the ceiling intently, probably trying to predict where that demon was going to come from and they could both hear it screeching and scratching at the floor overhead.

When the noises got louder, he knew exactly where the demon was going to come from.

“Tess, get back!” he blurted and pushed her back just as a loud shriek came closer fast.

She hit the floor just as Dante looked up and drew his sword just in time to see the demon bursting down from the ceiling, breaking a new hole, and rammed right into him.

“Dante!!” Tess shrieked, seeing the impact.

The demon tackled him through the floor with a loud crash and she heard further violent crashes from below. She stumbled back to the gaping hole left in their wake and looked down. She gasped, seeing that not only had the demon rammed Dante clean through the first floor, it had crashed him through the lobby’s floor and cratered him into the basement. The nasty beast rose from its attack snarling, while Dante lay motionless in the pit, the grip on his gun limp and lifeless.

Tess gasped, seeing the chaos below through the massive hole, and was just grateful that the behaviour of his aura told her that Dante was just stunned. Her hands shot up and covered her mouth before she could shout in fright. The demon was looming down over the motionless body of Dante, but it looked up through the holes and saw her. It let a throaty snarl through the muzzle and its tail whipped in excitement, smashing a wooden beam near it.

It shuffled its wings, ready to lunge upwards and go after her, but never got the chance. 

Dante moved suddenly. His left hand still held Ivory, and he rolled over to his side, drawing Ebony, pointing them both up and firing away at the demon. The first few rounds were the same as they ever had been, but something seemed to snap and he let a sudden yell of anger, releasing his rage into the shots. His guns were engulfed in a red haze and the shots were suddenly charged with power, shocking and burning through the demon as the bullets hit the demon.

It howled sharply in pain, jerking its head back and falling backwards, thrashing like a maniac and jerking its arms and legs as if it were hoping to hit him. It scrambled backwards, jumped, hit its legs against the wall and hurled back towards him, screaming hysterically. It rammed into Dante and shoved him out of Tess’ line of sight.

Tess couldn't bear to just keep watching from above, she had to do _something_. She went around that hole and dashed down the hallway. Dodging debris and broken floorboards she raced to the stairs and almost tumbled down in her haste to get downstairs to the basement. Most of the Madmen were either gone or dead but when one of them barrelled in her direction, laughing hysterically, when she reached the lobby, she didn't hesitate.

Tess was so determined and adrenaline-driven that her reaction was almost a reflex rather than consciously done. She raised her arm and shot a massive fire blast at the creature, scorching it head to a crisp. It fell backwards and the dried, charred skull shattered on impact with the floor. She flung open the still intact basement floor and started down the steps. She stopped abruptly at the foot of the stairs, staring at the sight before her.

The demon had rammed Dante into the other side of the basement, but he had repelled it with a couple more of those charged shots he was now getting the hang of. It pulled back, screeching. Dante stood but felt like someone picked him up, while the demon lunged at him again with such animosity, Dante could only dodge-roll to the side to avoid it. He shot the monster's abdomen as it passed over him, following it with charged shots and finally stopped to stand once more. The demon thrashed and lost control of its jumping attack, slamming face-first on the wall across it with a loud cracking sound.

It slumped to the floor with a choked screech and after laying on the floor thrashing for a moment it jumped up and shook itself down. Agile like a serpent, it turned and lunged for Dante again, flailing its arms, showing that its wings had been torn and were bleeding profusely. It rushed him, bloody foam and saliva dripping from the openings of the muzzle. Its sharp claws were headed for Dante's head.

Dante braced himself, gritting his teeth and lunging at the demon himself. He felt light on his feet, powerful and relentless, as if nothing could stop him. He drew Rebellion, holding it tightly in his hands and smirked madly, showing teeth that were becoming sharp like fangs. His eyes, red against dark colored crimson were reflecting deep hate, anger and utter enjoyment.

The blade pierced through the metal of the muzzle with a loud cracking noise. The mask broke into three large pieces and the blade burrowed straight into the skull of the demon. It went through the mouth and pierced the back of it, exiting out of the top of its neck. The demon had enough momentum to make the teenager slide backwards almost to the back wall, while still standing, till the monstrous body relaxed and slumped on the ground in front of him, as if submitting. It was not dead yet. It lay there, crouched, with the blade stuck through its head and let a weak, painful grunt, looking up at Dante with a strange look. It was a crazy look, and neither pleading nor pain could be seen in its eyes.

Dante had little doubt that this creature was similar to the Madmen; it had been human once, and the thought made him feel uneasy, but did not diminish his anger.

Dante hardly had sense of being pushed back earlier. He was so wrapped up in his own triumph that he hardly felt his back foot gently touch the crease where the wall met the floor. The beast before him slumped to the ground, breathing heavy and Dante released his sword to draw his guns. He twirled them for a moment before bringing them before him, the silver of Ivory and the black of Ebony glistening subtly.

Still slightly overcome by his demonic side, Dante muttered "Jackpot!" and shot two powered shots, one from each gun at the handle of his all-metal sword.

The bullets hit the sword and the force finished the demon off. The sword stuck in the ground behind it, quivering and the demon fell forward, its head pretty much torn off its shoulders and rolling on the floor. Blood gushed out of the severed neck and sprayed everywhere, mostly on Dante. The demon didn't even scream, just slumped there, dead. Dante smirked down at this sight and chuckled, pleased. It was an intoxicating feeling, this power.

When he looked up, a hair-rising sight knocked some sense back into him. Tess was standing at the bottom of the staircase and behind her stood a tall, thin and frightfully pale man. He had messy black hair that reached his shoulders, greasy and unkempt, square glasses perched on a thin, slightly hooked nose and eyes solid black. He was wearing a dull grey suit over a white shirt and leaned on a black cane. He had a skeletal-like hand on Tess’ shoulder and bending down some, looked like he was whispering something to her.

The most frightening thing about him however, was that he seemed somewhat see-through, like a phantom or a ghost and he was surrounded in the blackest, most foul-looking aura and Dante didn't need second sight to see it. It was eerie, almost alive and crawled over the man's hand onto Tess' shoulder and around her feet and looked as if it really wanted to pull her into itself. She looked like she was frozen in a motion to pull herself away from him. Her torso has half-turned and her hands were nearly clawing at the wall, trying to pull away; her head was lowered in an agonizing grimace and her teeth clenched. She was shaking and everything seemed like she wanted more than anything to get away from that thing but some force was stopping her. She let a choked sound of despair from her throat, trying to scream.

Dante grit his teeth, still full of anger and overwhelmed by his new power, fired a barrage of charged bullets right over Tess' shoulder at him. He was reckless, yet his aim was so flawless he had no fear of injuring her. When he noticed the bullets did nothing but pass through the spectre, he angrily strode closer, pulling Rebellion off the floor with a loud cracking sound coming from the concrete. He marched all the way to Tess and the man. In one fluid movement he swung the blade to try hack off the phantom-man's head, not sure if he could damage him and not even caring. He just wanted to get that thing away from her.

The man lifted his empty gaze up to Dante, as the sword passed right through him, contorting his image and pulling the aura like a billow of smoke pushed by wind. He made a grimace of annoyance and finally pulled his hand off Tess' shoulder. The girl let a gasp and her knees buckled, making her fall forward on her knees, panting. The man glared at Dante with nerve, an audacious and devious smirk fit for a contemptuous madman. He pulled back, casting a mocking look at them both.

"Too bad," he said in a dreamy, blank voice, gazing at Tess. "Remember, my dear, what I told you. I'll be waiting for you," he said, waving his hand in a gentlemanly manner, before disappearing as if the smoke he was made of disintegrated.

Dante muttered a bitten-off curse and breathed heavily as the man disappeared. He couldn't see it but his thick aura dissipated back to its norm. His attention turned quickly to Tess and he sheathed Rebellion again before he kneeled next to her to make sure she was alright. She was unharmed but the look on her face and her shaking suggested she was petrified.

He spoke softly, but with concern. "Tess? Hey Twig, are you with me?"

Tess was crouched against the wall near the staircase, breathing shakily and looking at the floor, wide-eyed. It took her a while to register, but she nodded, slowly. She seemed a little out of it still. She gripped at her shoulder and muttered that she hurt a bit where the specter had put its hand on her, but she was alright. She pulled herself up, her back against the wall.

"Grams...where's Grams? Where's Roy?" she said, shaky, staring ahead of her blankly.

Dante looked over her shoulder up the staircase, uncertain. Roy was still probably lying on the street, outside. He had no idea where Magda was and regretfully confessed to it.

"Roy was a bloody mess on the front steps, I dunno if he got up yet. I don't know where either of them are--look, we have to get you outta here," he said, standing and holding his hand out to her. "C'mon! Let's go! Before any more of ‘em come!" 

Tess shook her head, gently pushing his hand away and rambling on confusedly. "No, that-that thing told me that if--that we are going to go to him," she gulped, and pulled herself from the wall. "I have to find Grams!" she said and finally went up the stairs into the lobby.

Dante wasn't quick enough to stop her, but he followed closely behind her, calling out to her. "Tess! What are you talking about?! Wait! Tess!"

Upstairs, almost every sign of demon or demon body was gone. Tess frantically looked into the lounge room and then pulled open the wrecked door to the old woman's apartments just as Dante was right behind her. He followed her right into Magda's rooms, and he looked at the ruin about them in shock. The walls were littered with blood, remains of demons and the sure signs of a big struggle. Holes gapped in walls, furniture was overturned and some of it was smoking. There was no way the old kook survived that! Just as he was looking around and thinking how much of a fight the old woman seemed to have put up, Tess’ horrified scream made him jump and run right towards her. She stood in front of the portion of the living room that looked out to the street, with wide eyes and having brought hands to her mouth. He followed her gaze up to what had horrified her and his jaw dropped as well.

Magda’s corpse hung from a rope tied up to the beams of the wrecked ceiling above. Her neck was snapped and her head hung in an impossible angle. Her eyes were wide and her tongue had rolled out of her mouth as she dangled above them with the rope making eerie creaking sounds. Her hair had been pulled so hard that the front of the scalp had almost been ripped off the skull. Her clothes and face were scathed and bloody and as their look wandered down, they could see that she had been torn in two from the waist down. One of her arms had been ripped off as well. Her lower torso was lying on the floor, in a pool of blood and drops still fell from the upper part of the body.

Tess stared at the massacre scene in horror, let an incomprehensible sound, gasped and without warning, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted. Dante reacted quickly and was able to catch her before she hit the floor, while trying to swallow down the unsettling, gory display of Magda's death. He shook his head in disbelief. That had been too much, even for him. The frightening sight had rattled his nerves too and he didn’t blame Tess for passing out. She’d just gotten through the attack of a positively monstrous demon, being pawed up by that ghastly man and to top it all off she had to see this. No wonder she passed out from shock.

This whole thing had exhausted him too and brought back some evil memories he had been hoping to forget.

With a sad and tired look about his face, Dante picked her up in his arms gently and then carried her out of the room and back into the lobby, over to a sheltered corner under the staircase that was relatively unscathed. He sat with his back on the wall there and pulled Tess up to him so that her back was resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to him. The back of her head rested on his shoulder dully and he leaned his head back against the wall. He wasn't exactly sure what he felt--remorse, anger, confusion, or concern. He accepted that he was feeling them all at the same time, and now there was nothing to do but wait. For what, he didn't know. He didn’t know what to do now.

He gulped, trying to choke the feelings that a realization brought out in him. It was just like that day years ago, when his mother was killed, and he felt that same helplessness and confusion.

 _At least this time…I protected someone. I didn’t fail as bad as I did then,_ he thought, bitterly and without realizing, squeezed Tess against him softly.


	15. No More Running

They were hidden away there for a minute or so before Dante heard the floor creaking again. He instantly yanked Ivory out and pointed it at the front door with a rather wild look on his face, only to lower it immediately. Roy limped in, looking about as bad as when Dante left him, bloody, battered and breathing in rasps. He was wide-awake now, but in a bad condition. His left eye was missing and closed in a permanent grimace. It didn’t look like it would ever heal. He was no longer bleeding and most of his face was slowly healing itself. He panted, looking down at the two as Dante put away his gun, but made no move to let go of Tess who was still slumped against him in a swoon after seeing her grandmother’s corpse.

Roy let a relieved sigh. "Thank God. You're both alright," he said, his voice trembling. “Thank God.”

He then glanced at the door to Magda’s quarters and back at Dante, but he probably couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“She’s…dead” Dante said and found his voice wasn’t coming up easily. “It’s bad…”

Roy shook his head and looked from Tess to Dante. “You kids look awful,” he mumbled. Then he looked into the room. Even from the threshold he must’ve been able to see what had shaken up the two kids. He frowned bitterly. “Stay here. I traced a new protection circle. It'll last for a bit. Nobody will bother us; the city is under a bigger spell than what I can manage. _Stay here_ , rest up--look after her, please. I have to take care of…you know," he added.

Dante looked back at Roy blankly, unable to find something to say or even give a sign that he even registered what the djinn said. He didn’t care anyway and just gave a dull nod. With that, Roy limped his way into the devastated room, pulling the door shut behind him. Dante figured he went to cut down the mutilated body and carry the remains elsewhere, possibly burying them.

Dante felt numbed and scared; not for his well-being but because he realized that if he'd been just another second too late, Tess might’ve met the same, gruesome fate as Magda…if not worse. He never could have forgiven himself if that had happened. He gritted his teeth with a nasty bellow as ideas of what demons might’ve done to her flew through his head.

He shut his eyes as he heard the djinn walk around in the other room and from the heavier thumps he could tell that he was carrying Magda’s remains. It was strange how this affected him. He'd been able to witness people die before without a second glance. He never got along with the old bat. But Magda's death just seemed unfair and unnecessarily brutal. This had to be what Tess had told him about, that demons would not just take satisfaction in killing them if they failed to join the Underworld, but would torture and mutilate wiccans in the worst way.

When Roy walked back in the wrecked lobby, he lingered a little bit, looking at them again. They were both huddled against the wall and hadn’t moved an inch while he was out back. Dante could see in Roy’s face the same kind of fear that he felt. The old man was tired, hurt and at loss for words. Dante thought that there was nothing the old man could say or do to help or comfort either of them. He watched Roy limp towards the front door, grumbling.

“I’ll stay outside. I need to keep an eye out and rest…I’ve got wounds to lick. I have work to do…” Roy muttered quietly.

Shortly after Roy ambled outside and left them alone, Tess finally stirred a little. She’d been conscious ever since Roy went into Magda’s apartments but hadn’t moved. She felt like she was living a nasty dream that she could wake from and that nothing of all that had happened...but she knew better. She felt terribly alone for a moment but when she realized that her back lay against something warm she let a small sigh. It had to be Dante. The aura was familiar. He held her against himself, protectively. The wrecked house was eerily quiet around them.

"This," she said in a tired voice, "is the worst day of my life."

Dante tensed, aware she was conscious.

She let out a drawn breath, feeling too tired to move. Under other circumstances, being held so close to someone like that, this whole moment, she might’ve reacted differently; even felt strange…but now she couldn’t find anything from her former pluck. She knew she was still in shock and for all her effort she couldn't understand what she was feeling. It was a blank feeling, a complete void.

But it finally sunk in. Magda was dead. The last bit of family she had was gone. She was left alone. It was a terrible feeling to realize, like the night her parents died was repeating itself. She felt a lump in her throat and she thought she was going to choke on it. She let a sorrowful moan and hugged her knees suddenly. She lowered her head onto them, awkwardly squirming away from Dante and cried. She couldn't help it.

For all their problems, disputes and constant arguing, Magda's resent and bitterness and Tess’ own tempestuous personality, Magda was still her grandmother, her only family, her connection to her mother. She knew that deep down Magda loved her. She had tried to protect her up to the end. She had done all she could for Tess to turn out well. And Tess had never thanked her. She realized that the last thing she ever said to her grandmother were harsh and bitter things. She felt horrible about herself.

Dante almost didn’t resist when she shuffled away. He knew exactly what she was going through. All this had reminded him of his own loss again. He’d seen the pitiful remains of his mother as well when he was much younger and it haunted him to this day. And he knew this was not the first loss of this nature that Tess had suffered; there was nothing that could compare to their experiences. He stood up slowly with his head hung; he wanted to comfort her but she looked so lost in her sorrow that he didn’t think there was anything he could do for her.

His voice was a little shaky when he spoke at last. "I’m…gonna go see if Roy’s okay,” he said quietly and then without quite knowing why, he added: “I'm sorry, Tess.”

He looked at her, huddled on the ground crying. It was the first time he saw her resolve and feistiness truly break; the first time he saw her crying. It wasn't a pretty sight, but he caught himself thinking _I'd give anything to stop her tears._

He felt helpless and unable to think of something to do with himself, he walked out slowly to allow her to mourn without an audience. He thought that’s what she wanted, since she’d shuffled away from him in the first place.

He found the djinn sitting on the front steps outside the door, his elbows on his knees and his head was hung low. He had wrapped a piece of torn bed sheet around his head, diagonally, to cover his missing eye.

Dante trudged down the steps to him. "Feeling ok, old man? Not leaving us yet?" he asked.

Roy let a gruff grunt at Dante's question. "I'm fine, thank you," he snapped. "It’s not like I'm going miss that eye, I got one left." he said bitterly. "What are you doing out here, go back inside, damn it. Don't leave her alone. This isn’t over by a long shot. There's nothing I can do for her now. She won't talk to me; I know it. She'd rather have you around than me."

Dante huffed at the djinn. “Relax, she's just inside. She's in pieces and I can't be an audience. I know how she feels. She probably doesn’t want me around. Now, waddaya say I help patch you up some?"

Roy grunted. It was a mix of anger and depression. "No. I can patch myself up. I'm a djinn, for God's sake, I won’t die. Trust me, she needs someone around her. Go back inside. You need to rest too. You’re battered up. Do you think this is over?" He looked angrier. "This is just the tip of the iceberg. Magda’s death brought to surface complications I was hoping we could've avoided. I don't know what that girl will do alone, anymore. She likes you, dammit. If you're around at least she's not going to lose hope completely," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

Dante sulked. “Fine alright…but I need to know, how the hell did you end up this hurt? I thought you were—“

“What, invincible? Powerful?” Roy grunted. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Dante snapped.

Roy looked back at him with an exasperated frown. “The circle failed; I had it bound to myself and when it failed I felt it like a sledgehammer to my chest. Then all those damn nutcases came pouring in just as I stumbled outside. I would’ve been fine if I’d had time to show my true form and deal with them. But the moment that demon showed up something happened.”

“Like what?”

Roy’s face hardened. “I’m not entirely sure. It felt like an infernal spell that blew the circle apart. At the same time it wrecked havoc at my innards. I puked out a ton of blood and the next thing I know, that damn freak and its buddies were all on me and took half my face off.”

Dante cringed. “They blitzed you…”

Roy scoffed. “Sure as shit did. The circle backfiring is what really did me in, but the demons took a piece of me too. Fortunately, I killed most of them in the process, but that ugly sonofabitch got away from me.” The old man growled a bit. “ _Ergh_ , what am I keeping you here for, just go inside. I'm exhausted," he mumbled.

“Jeez, alright, you don’t need to get all uppity about it,” Dante blurted. “Whether you like it or not, I'm in this now! I’m involved in this mess…and you can’t treat me like a kid after I bumped off the demon that poked your eye out.”

Roy looked up at him suddenly. “Don’t blame yourself, Dante,” he said and sounded softer. “This was never your fault, son. Don’t let anything or anybody make you think it was. You’ve been caught in this shit alright...but it’s not your fault. Nothing of this is, and _never_ blame yourself for it,” he said gently.

Dante looked right at him over his shoulder and nodded awkwardly. Roy was always doing that, picking thoughts out of his head that he didn’t even properly realize he was having. He then went into the lobby, trying to ignore the unsettling fact that Roy looked to be on the verge of a breakdown. It actually shook Dante up a little: Granted, Roy had always been a little grumpy, but Dante never thought of him as one to be overwhelmed. He always assumed Roy could handle anything life, death and the demonic world could throw at him—he certainly had always sounded that way. And yet now he just sounded tired and old and concerned.

When he stepped in the lobby again, Tess was still in the corner against the wall, under the stairs. A soft sob came from her curled form. She was hugging her legs and pressing her forehead on her knees. Looking at her, Dante felt inexplicably upset. He never thought that someone else’s sorrow would affect him so much. He was just getting fond of the girl enough to feel like he wanted to do something to comfort her, and it wasn’t just that he was being a nice guy. He just felt that helping Tess…mattered.

These people had accepted him into their lives and in fact had been downright nice and decent to him. Sure, Magda was unreasonable but respected him in her own weird way and they were all a bit biased in the beginning, but Tess never cared about his heritage. She didn’t give him ‘special treatment’ for the legacy he carried; to her he was just an annoying neighbor that she ended up being incredibly fond of, enough to risk her life for him.

He crouched down next to her and tried to get her attention. “Tess? Need anything?”

Tess looked up at him with red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks; an exhausted and scared expression that drilled a hole in his heart. She looked confused and miserable and there was something in her countenance of an utter loneliness that few could comprehend. Then she reached out at his sleeve, her hand clutching uncertainly.

“Please, stay with me,” she uttered weakly. “I'm - I'm scared--that you're going to leave." She was still crying and trying to control herself. "Everyone...leaves me behind."

Dante just stared and his brows furrowed together as he realized that Roy had been right. He could see it on her face that she was glad to see him there, in her moment of helplessness. Almost absently he took the sword from his back, stuck the tip into the wooden floor beside them and leaned against the wall. He slid down into a seat next to her and she barely needed further invitation to curl against him while he wrapped his arms around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his arm.

“It’s ok Tess. I’m not going anywhere,” he muttered.

She let a tiny, relieved sigh and sat there quietly. It took her a few moments to regain some of her composure before she talked again, and all the while Dante heard her sniffle and suppress sobs.

"I'm always like this. I'm scared of being left alone," she muttered at last. "You were right to call me miserable; I was so shut up in myself. When I didn't have to lie or pretend to you, I felt better."

He thought he couldn’t find something to say and made an effort to steer her mind off that, but the only thing he could think of asking was not much of a departure. “What…was that ghost guy?”

She didn’t answer immediately. "The demon behind all this. He said he's waiting...for me to go to him. He told me I can't run," she said, her voice flat and almost mechanic. “I’m so tired…”

She never said anything further and he didn’t answer. She sounded calmer than before and he let her relax against him, trying to soothe her. She actually drifted asleep, likely worn from exhaustion, crying and shock. When he was sure she was asleep, he leaned his head against her softly and stroked her hair.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants, Tess…I’ll stay here for ya,” he muttered quietly.

He tried to think of what he should be doing, wondering what that work that Roy mentioned was, or whether they should expect another attack…but he couldn’t stop thinking of how strange it felt to care this much about somebody. He frowned, promising himself that he was going to find that demon that caused all this and wreck him for everything it did, to him and Roy and Tess. That in turn made him think of something else; Roy had been right: If he had a purpose, he was that much stronger. He’d felt it before when he killed that crazy demon, tapping into a well of power he never realized he had.

But his latest indulgence into his demonic side, the consecutive battles and the stress got the better of him. Combined with that strangely comforting feeling of being huddled up with Tess like that, he slipped into sleep too, with his head resting against hers.

When Tess woke up, several hours must have passed because she looked up and out of the wrecked door and could see the sun was well on its way towards dusk. She let a muffled huff and stirred, feeling Dante's arms around her still and smiled a bit. A blanket that had somehow been spared from the destruction was draped over them; Roy’s doing, definitely. Surely enough, she saw the cat, now disfigured with his eye sealed shut under a scar, curled against the wall across them. He was wide awake and looked back at her, still huddled up against Dante. The djinn didn’t speak, merely half closed his remaining eye, seemingly content that she was awake, motionless like cats can be. The lobby was mostly dark, bar the ceiling light that by some miracle, found some feeble light to provide.

Dante woke up as well as he felt Tess stir. He relaxed his hold on her a little and huffed in a strange sigh. He looked around the lobby, somewhat disappointed to find that he was brought back to this depressing reality. He looked across him and saw Roy. He felt incredibly sorry for the djinn’s condition and missing eye and bit his lip a little, regretting his earlier snap. Roy just squint his eye softly, his tail flicking in recognition of the unspoken apology. 

Dante looked down to Tess and muttered in her ear softly. "You okay?" 

Tess nodded, dully. "I'm okay," she said. She seemed calm and steady, but still saddened.

Roy suddenly stood up, his tail lowering. "Tess. I'm going to go see the coven now. I’ll try to talk some sense into their stupid heads."

"Right," she replied. "Don't tell them about...you know." Dante felt her shrug.

Roy cast a passing glance from her to Dante then back at her. "I know. Are you sure you want this? It won’t be easy."

Tess hesitated for a very brief moment. "I'm sure.”

“Alright. I don't know how long this will take. And I know I cannot stop either of you, from whatever it is you want to do. Just look after yourselves. But I _will_ catch up with you,” the cat said, heading for the door again. He stopped at the doorstep, looked back and fixed his gaze on Dante. “Good luck.”

Then he went out the door and vanished. They watched him leave and Tess sighed softly.

Yet Dante cocked a brow. Good luck? What did that old cat mean? “Tess?”

“Roy’s going to speak to the coven my family used to belong to,” she said with a huff.

“Used to?” he echoed. “Why?”

Tess hesitated. “They kicked us out; banished us when my granddad, Sergio, gave them a piece of his mind about their notion of having control over what its members did. 'We have these powers to change fate. We were given the right to use them by _our free will._ If we don't have that, we don't have anything' that's what he said. And they called us heretics and disloyal and kicked us out. And now Roy’s got talk them into letting me back in so they can protect me,” she scoffed.

Dante frowned. She sounded really apprehensive about that. But something bothered him; by leaving, Roy had entrusted her protection with him until he came back. Dante had this burning urge to find that creature and tear it a new one but he was reluctant to leave Tess behind on her own until Roy came back. Then there was Roy’s cryptic ‘good luck’. Just what did the cat expect them to do? It occurred to him that Tess wanted to find this demon as well and kill it, but he couldn’t bring himself to involve her.

Fortunately, Tess had other ideas.

“Listen…” she said. “We don’t have a lot of time. If Roy convinces the coven, they’ll expect me to go to them immediately. I’ll never have another chance to find this bastard and kill it. I need to finish this…and I need you to help me.”

“Tess, are you outta your mind?” he blurted.

She pulled back and grabbing a handful of his shirt, looked at him in the eye. “Please,” she said quietly. “Listen--I have no choice. That thing isn’t gonna let us go. I don’t know what it wants, but it’s really determined. Besides…I need to kill it. I won’t be able to bear it if that thing gets away with what it’s done…” There was pain and bitterness in her tone. "I can't...run anymore. I'm tired of running and hiding. I want to do _something_!! Even if I die in the process, I have to do something before the coven shuts me up in their cage of rules.”

“No, forget it. I can’t let you go diving into trouble. That last demon was trying to kill you--and it would’ve if I hadn’t made it back in time. I’m not gonna put you in danger. What the hell am I supposed to tell Roy if you croak it?” he said hotly. And finding it rather hard to believe that he was being so cautious.

“Roy’ll understand. He knows what I want--and he knows you want to go after this thing too. He’s letting us try. Dante…please. I need your help for this.” She looked surprised that she had to go out of her way to talk him into this.

He gulped. “Tess…I’m not even sure what that thing was. Roy’s outta his fucking mind. I couldn’t hurt it--“

Tess shook her head. “It was just an astral projection, something he used to come speak to me. He’s out there.”

“What did he say to you?!”

She looked away. “He flat out told me he’s doing this. He knows me, he knew my dad. We have to stop this demon; if it gets loose and comes for us --" she cringed. "No. It’s going to do far too much harm. We gotta stop him while he’s still weak. He doesn't want to kill me. He - he needs me for something."

Dante tensed. “Needs you?” he echoed, cocking his eyebrow. “You’re saying…he’s not free yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I bet you anything he wants me for this _stupid_ second sight,” she said, frowning. “Listen, Dante, you have to understand. He’s after me; he killed my grandmother, he hurt Roy. He hurt _you_. It’s personal now. I can't run away from it forever. It really doesn't matter if I die. Roy'll understand."  

There was a certain cold detachment in her tone. She sounded just like she had sounded the first days Dante met her, icy and emotionless. But she had a new determination and a severe calm that she lacked before. As if she aged ten years in one night. Dante frowned. On one hand he was almost glad to hear that this demon hadn’t reached his goal of being totally free, but on the other hand he was concerned with her determination. He still didn’t want to let her come with him. He hoped to put some sense in her head, so she wouldn’t follow him.

"Tess, I don't care what that demon wants. The last thing I need is your blood on my hands because you couldn’t just back down. This is beyond dangerous--it’s even stupid.”

She stiffened up again. “Dante, stop it. You’re not gonna change my mind. Don't you get it!? It was right under our noses the entire time. The killing spree of the madmen--it was him all along. He needed all that bloodshed because he was nourishing himself with it! He was feeding off the _madness_ of the people he drove crazy and the blood that was shed. He's about to break out his prison and if he does, _then_ who can stop him!? He's still gathering his power. That’s why…we have a chance.”

Oh she was getting angry at him now, he could tell that much from her expression. But he was catching on quick. Chernobog had been difficult; the demon he’d just killed a few hours ago was just stubborn. There was no way to gauge how much of a threat this demon could be, but Tess believed they had a chance. And he wanted to believe her.

“So the bastard’s still out there, stuck… And you think we got a chance…” he huffed. “Twig, I know I’m gonna regret this, but I believe you. Are you sure about this?”

Tess nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's why I want to go after him. He…he tore my heart out. I'm not going to be okay until I've done the same," she said and her voice trembled a little.

Dante made a decision then that affected him for quite a while later. He let go of Tess and slowly stood up and stretched, then flexed his neck with a loud crack sound. He looked down, offering a hand to Tess to help her up. Their eyes met for a moment and when she fixed her gaze on his, something in those green hues clouded his thinking for a moment before he realized: They were partners and for the first time in his so far short career as a demon hunter, he’d have backup. But it was a backup he’d have to take care of, watching her back like she’d watch his. He couldn’t afford sloppiness because it wasn’t just his life on the line.

“Well come on then, let’s do this,” he said calmly.

Tess' eyebrow bowed up. "So you aren't going to rant and storm about me coming with you?" she asked, mildly surprised. She took his hand and pulled herself up. 

Dante picked up his sword, twirled it once and secured it to his back.

"Nope. I guess I should know you by now. Even if I somehow tied you down here, I know you’d still wriggle out and come with me anyway,” he mock-huffed. “And hell…I might as well keep an eye on you. Besides, with you there, I’ll have to be in top form or lose face,” he said, eying her to see her reaction.

She smiled slowly, the same way a storm clears. It started small and uncertain but then it widened. She rarely smiled that way and it gave him a pretty unique feeling of pride and satisfaction mixed.

"Right then," she only said, and looked to the door that led into the room where Magda had died. She shuddered briefly. "We're going to have to pinpoint where this demon is and I think I finally know how. Come here," she said, pushing the door to the room open and going inside.

Dante followed her inside, taking a look at the chaos around them while Tess pulled a table that had been blown across the room into the middle, where it was free of debris. She then went shuffling through the drawers of a nearby chest. He felt a bit uneasy and shivered some, as if the old crone was still there; he could certainly feel her presence but shrugged, putting it aside. While Tess was busy going through the chest, he poked around some of the trashed furniture, absently lifting a knocked cupboard. If anything seemed useful he’d pick it up but all he found were talismans that had proven useless, pieces of paper with strange symbols on them, boxes and jars filled with roots, herbs, powders and other such things that he knew nothing about.

“If you see any white chalk lying somewhere, grab it for me, please,” she said absently as she moved past him, clutching a map in one hand.

Dante indeed found some in a little tin box lying rather unharmed inside an open drawer. He turned back around to see her going through the remains of a large cupboard cabinet. She retrieved a chain with a purple stone shaped like a wedge on its end. She also took a dagger with a slightly curved blade. It had no cross-guard, a hilt made of dark-colored wood, with an inlaid design of a waxing crescent in silver on one side, and a waning crescent on the other. The pommel was a half-round bronze knob. It looked used and rather humble. She stared at it for a moment, as if she wasn’t certain what it was and then hid it inside one of her arm-warmers.

“C’mon over here,” she said, beckoning him while spreading the map on the table.

Dante walked over, noting it was a map of the city.

“Chalk,” he said dully and tossed the tin box at her.

Tess caught it in her raised hand, barely looking up from the map. “Thanks.”

She held the end of the chain loosely in her hand, letting the pointed stone hover over the map until it stood still.

“Put your hand over mine,” she said, keeping her hand stretched.

Dante sheepishly obliged. By now he had enough faith in her witchcraft to not raise any protest or even quip something.

"I hate to say this now, but Grams was right to nag me about _scrying_. I hope I'm not still as bad as I used to be," she mumbled, concentrating.

She put her other hand over the wrist of the hand holding the chain while Dante’s hand rested on hers and the stone hung over the paper. She then began a spell while Dante felt a shiver run down his spine as her words began to grow in volume and hung in the air carrying a sense of power. It wasn’t as intense as when he’d heard her light his sword on fire but it still prickled his skin a little, and yet he still couldn’t completely understand everything she said, even though he’d asked her and Roy to teach him a little bit of that language, in case it came in handy in the future.

“ _Thousand eyes, hundred guards, falcon of North, eagle of South, crow of West, owl of East, see as I have seen, gather your eyes and show me!”_  

As soon as she had started, the stone moved on its own like a pendulum and began swinging in circles over the map, faster and faster in an ever widening arc as she recited. Finally it flew from her hand and hit a point of the map with a dull chime. The stone stood there, on its point, perfectly balanced for a fraction of a second, then fell on its side. The two of them leaned over the map.

“Where’d it point?” Dante blurted. “What’s there?”

Tess took a moment and raised an eyebrow. “You're going to laugh.”

“Beats me, Twig,” Dante said, looking at the map on the table himself.

She pointed at the spot on the map where the crystal had been. “This is where a nuthouse supposedly closed down last year. It was ancient, anyway.”

Dante scoffed. “A demon that creates madmen, in a binge full of crazies. That’s kinda sad.”

“I know, talk about a real Bedlam,” she said sarcastically. She took two bits of white chalk from the box, wrapping them in a piece of cloth she tore off the tattered curtains and putting them in her pocket. “So, ready to go?”

He looked at her and smirked, trying to make light of the situation. “What’s with the chalk and the knife? That toothpick ain’t gonna be much help.”

Tess just smirked back at him. "These, my fiendish friend, are tools of my trade," she said with a sly look in her eyes. "You do your stuff with sword and guns. I do my stuff with simpler things.”

They stepped outside, into the lobby and although neither of them spoke, they both stopped and looked at the doorway. Dante felt that the moment they stepped out of the door there would be no turning back and he knew they might not make it. He’d never have another chance…

Right as she started to go past him and heading for the door, he couldn’t help himself. He could see how pale she looked and the hesitation that settled in her eyes in spite of her confidence. And then there was that weight on his heart.

“Come on.”

As she stretched her arm to tug him along, Dante caught it and yanked her back to him gently. He pulled her close and without even thinking, their lips met; just like that. Her arms felt cold even through her shirt but her lips were warm. She didn’t pull away and he just knew her face must’ve turned red even though the kiss didn’t last for more than a couple of seconds. Perhaps ironically, the only surviving light still alive on the lobby ceiling flickered and gave out with a small crack.

They pulled apart, he let go of her and for a moment they just stared at each other, but it wasn’t awkward or weird. They just had nothing to say until Tess smirked a little.

“Needed a reason to come fight with me, huh?” she asked in a tease.

He was all too happy to play along. “I just like to have a little bit of a forward ‘payment’, that’s all,” he said slyly. _Maybe when this is all done...and if we make it out of this, Twig..._

Then they both just went out the door, Dante graciously allowing her to go first and noting that she still stared at the ground a little and her cheeks stayed rosy for a bit. He thought about that first disaster of a kiss he gave her that just got him a punch in the face, and then this one: A world of difference.

When they stepped outside, they were greeted by a cold wind and a sharp, moist frost that hung in the air. The snow piled on the streets and pavements was melting, but it just made the ground slippery and slick with dirty slush. They’d only taken a couple of steps away from the building when a loud crash made them both jump and Dante whirled around drawing his buns and pointing them at the threat...which turned out to be nothing more than some debris falling through the hole in the lobby floor from the floor above.

They both lay silent for a moment, staring. Dante scratched his head with Ebony’s barrel absently, while Tess rolled her eyes with a small smirk. He holstered his guns and followed her closely. Ever so often he would feel the need to reach for his guns when he had a sense of being watched, but he refrained. There was no need to become paranoid. Tess didn’t stray away from him anyway, but kept close. She didn’t need to tell him that she felt like a thousand eyes were watching their every move. He could feel it right down his spine too. He understood what she meant now; they really could never have run or hid from this.

But they didn’t intend to, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	16. Creatures of Filth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I get real creative with beasties

Neither of them really spoke on the way to the site. Tess and Dante just walked along, sticking close to each other, doing their best to tolerate the hundreds of peering eyes focused on them. Bloodgoyles fluttered and watched from the corner of their vision, perched on buildings. Rarely, the hellish birds would fly closer and sometimes they’d move ahead and wait for them. Their persistent watch made Dante so irritated that on a few occasions he drew a gun and without even looking over to aim, he would fire a couple of rounds off at them. Usually it’d take down one or two of them with consecutive shots, while the rest would just fly away, shrieking, only to return after a while.

The struck demons would crash on the street below and shrieks would fill the air, but none of them really attacked. It was as if they were just some advance guard, there only to ensure that the two teenagers were going the right way. Tess never really took part in those short fits of Dante’s. She was too nervous to follow suit and just remained close to him, making Dante think she might’ve been getting cold feet, but he gave her credit for sticking to her initial decision anyway.

But they shared a feeling of oppression and fear that weighed down on them. They were heading straight into the lion's den, without knowing what to expect. The city was as quiet as they were; they didn’t encounter any living being as they walked, as if everyone except for them had been erased from existence. They knew that the presence of demonic influence as so much that a large part of the city was sort of paralyzed. They would hear the typical urban ambience from the suburbs beyond but it felt a world away from them. The snow that crept over the city for most of the month was slowly melting.

The distance to the asylum must have been a couple of hours worth of a walk, but neither of them could register the passage of time well enough; likely yet another effect of the influence of demons leaking into the human world. They knew they had reached their target even before they got in front of the building. It was a horribly oppressing feeling that overtook them and the eerie silence made the air heavy. The sky above was murky and depressing, clouds swirling above ominously, like an on-coming storm.

"This is it," Tess said quietly, looking up at the building after them scaled the surrounding fence wall.

It was a large building that looked more like a prison or an old fortress than an institute for the mentally ill. The walls were solid stone, covered by a layer of plaster darkened from age and the elements. The two large doors of the entrance were sealed shut and barred with no visible way of breaking through them. The windows looked barred from the inside, all small and ominous-looking, many of which had bars or railings over them. The ones closer to the ground were even boarded over. Most of them were dark, but some had weak, flickering lights. Ever so often, weak sounds like a wail, a scream or a paranoid laugh came from behind the thick walls, but the wind played games on their ears, swallowing sounds and confusing them. The whole building gave off a feeling of desertion and neglect, sublime insanity and a grim unknown.

Dante cringed a bit. This place made _him_ nervous--but of course he wasn’t planning on showing it! He swallowed a bit to calm down and shrugged.

"Well, let's go get 'im" he said and started up the path to the abandoned structure.

Tess was following closely behind him as they reached the large front doors. They looked old, made of metal and more alike to the doors of a prison than a hospital. A broken and tarnished metal plaque on the doors included part of the name of the old asylum. A sleek shine, which seemed out of place, clung to their surface and Dante made an off-the-cuff comment about demon seals. He wasn't scared, just concerned that this seal might impede their progress or leave them open to attack.

Tess stepped up to him and gently took hold of his arm. "Wait. I have the feeling that if we march through the front door we're going to walk straight into a trap or worse. I have an idea, let’s go around the side" she said, tugging him along.

"But that’ll take out all the fun," he scoffed.

Still, he knew she was right. As much as he would have liked to spring whatever trap and plough through it, he had to consider that he wasn’t alone. With Tess around and his head on the line, he knew that her decision to bypass the possible trap was a better option. He followed closely, scoping out their surroundings; other than a few Bloodgoyles that hung around the top of the building, there were no demons that he could see around them. At the same time, he was wondering what she had in mind for getting in. She might’ve been the lousier fighter of the two but she had good ideas most of the time. As far as he could tell, she was following her gut instinct.

"Roy once mentioned that this place's been around for ages,” she said. “It started as a prison around 1800, but it later was turned into a hospital of sorts for the mentally unstable. I doubt it did them any good though. God knows how many crazy people have lived and died in here--ah, this'll do," she said suddenly.

She stopped at a part of the ground floor wall that was bare, without windows or doors. The nearest window was at least four meters above them, boarded over soundly. The aged slabs of stone were showing through cracks in the outer plaster and paint.

"I thought we might as well go in where they don't expect us,” she explained and then smirked. "This is a pretty cool trick I learned to get away from Grams whenever she grounded me," she said, slightly nostalgic.

Dante watched as she took a piece of the chalk from her pocket and traced a rectangle on the wall, reaching down to the ground. It was a crude door of sorts. She added two symbols on the top and left side, then one more over the centre and pressed her hand over it.  

“ _Black god of walls, stand down and look at thy reflection. Block my way no more, tear thy chest open with your own hands and open my way, thrice I rap!”_ was what she said in wiccan language, before knocking on the symbol three times with her knuckles.

On the third hit, the block of wall she had traced with the chalk let a crumbling sound, and slowly swung open like a door on hinges.

Tess looked at him and said "After you".

Dante kept his look unimpressed but he liked that particular piece of magic. “Neat trick,” he said nonchalantly but took charge again.

He trudged into the dimly lit room Tess had gained entry to, drawing his guns as a precautionary measure. He glanced behind him to Tess, who followed closely and when they both stepped in, the ‘door’ closed with a quiet groan of stone. The room they walked into was strangely hot, like a sauna. They walked between some heavy machinery and immediately realized it was the asylum’s boiler room. Strangely enough, at least one of the massive machines was working while the rest were silent, but everything was covered in layers of dust and cobwebs. There were pipes on the walls and ceiling that looked big enough to fit a human.

“Didn’t you say this place was abandoned? Why the hell would some of the boilers be working?” Dante quipped.

Tess wiped some dust of a dial on one of the working boilers. “This one’s running on empty. Could be it was left running when the building was condemned. But this one,” she added, jabbing her thumb towards another large machine, “Is a power generator.”

“That means there could be some humans left,” Dante muttered. “Got any clues where to go or what to do next?”

She shook her head. “Now we wing it I guess. There’s just too much demonic aura in the air. I’ll need a while to get used to it. Let’s get out of this room and see what we can find.”

Dante nodded, making a mental note that while he too could feel the presence of demons, it was still pretty mild. There was a door at the other end of the room, through the machinery and piping. The glass on the top end was smudged and stained and left only a dim light coming in. He wiped the glass with his sleeve a bit and tried to peer out but to no avail. He sighed and awkwardly opened the door. It swung open with a soft groan. He peeked out behind it to see what was waiting for them in the hall.

Dried blood stains along the walls and floor decorated the corridor, some in the shape of archaic symbols, while others were just smears and spatters. Chunks of bricks and wood littered the ground and a fog of dust was settling in the air. They couldn't see how far the halls went either way, all they could see were large steel barricade doors, all ajar by various degrees, some wide open, some warped and dented, others torn off their hinges completely, lining the halls as far as the dust would allow them to see. He motioned for Tess to follow.

Tess followed him cautiously out in the corridor. She looked it up and down and bit her lip a little.

“What?” Dante asked her.

“This feels...familiar,” she confessed hesitantly. “I had some visions...nightmares... about a place like this. I don’t remember much, there was so much... static. But I remember hallways like this.”

She followed him down the hallway and peered into some of the cells. She cringed.  

"Ugh, and this was supposed to be a mental institute? It looks more like a medieval prison!” she said lowly. “And I just noticed...It looks like something happened here, a bloody fight--but why aren't there any bodies?”

“Sometimes demons make a meal out of whatever they kill. Or maybe _they_ were demons. Some demons don't leave behind remains aside from blood. Sometimes not even that,” Dante said with a shrug.

He walked on cautiously, his hands ready to draw either guns or sword in case something jumped them suddenly. Tess followed closely and he could feel she was as tense as he was but he couldn’t guess what she was thinking. Suddenly they heard a sort of rapid clicking noise from in front of them. Or was it the echo from behind? Dante wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he was certain it wasn't friendly. The weird clicking stopped and he relaxed slowly, continuing to walk. Besides that sound, at random times they could still hear screams travelling from other corridors, loud sounds of things crashing or metal doors slamming shut.

Tess muttered that she wasn’t sure if those sounds were caused by demons or humans, and made an off-the-cuff mention of the chance that the building was haunted by people that might’ve died there.

“What makes you think that?” Dante asked nonchalantly.

“Places like this often are if a lot of people die in bad ways. And the presence of demons sometimes ‘traps’ the departed. I’d say this mad feeling in the air is enough to warrant something...” she huffed.

As they walked along, Tess would glance into some of the cells. They glanced at each other meaningfully when the sound of a distant wail followed by a crazed cackle that was all too familiar to them both came to their ears. It was more of those Madmen creatures. A little before they turned around the corner, Tess grabbed his arm suddenly and gasped, turning away from one of the cells. Dante glanced in and saw a contorted and rotting body of what looked like a ward, judging by his tattered clothes. It was strewn inside the narrow cell, his chest ripped apart as if something had erupted from it, while one of his arms was ripped from the shoulder socket, completely gone.

“There _were_ people here,” she muttered, letting go of his arm. “I don’t get it...this place is supposed to have closed a year ago. Why would there still be people here?”

Dante looked away from the nasty sight. “Could be the demon’s lured people here. You said he needed insanity to feed off...”

“I feel like we're being watched. Like, all the madmen that have been incarcerated here are watching us,” she said.

He was about to ask her what she meant when a loud thud came from the distance ahead, as if something heavy had fallen over. They turned around into a much wider hallway. Dante frowned as he heard a loud cackle and a raspy breathing sound that were all too familiar to him. He cringed and went straight for his sword. He was certain he knew that throaty cackle; in fact, the thought of its owner and what it had done made him really, _really_ mad.

“You might wanna back off for this one, Twig. Ain’t something you wanna see!” he told her sharply.

Before she could respond, a snarl came up from amidst the dust ahead of them. Dante bore his blade at the stealthy demon as it came through the dust.

He called out to it “Back for more, huh? I thought we left off somewhere, freak.”

“We’ve been flanked,” Tess said dryly. She stood firmly and looked ready for anything. “Too late to back off.”

Dante glanced back at what she was seeing; figures with yellow eyes stared at them, moving among the shadows and the dust.

The cruel laugh came closer, joined by wails, screams and other, different cackles ones. From cells around them, several disfigured, human-like silhouettes appeared, all of them wearing similar white or teal hospital robes, torn and filthy with grime. All of them had pale skin, expressions contorted by madness, some with sadistic smirks and others with blank looks, like victims of a lobotomy. They all had inhuman features though, like glinting yellow eyes, some sporting claws, most hunched over and walking in a strange manner. Some had horrifying demonic faces growing out of their torsos, with shark-like maws and monstrous eyes. They looked like midway between human and zombies.

Dante frowned, thinking that they were probably former patients of the asylum, now twisted and changed by the demonic essence that was flooding the place. Meanwhile, his suspicions about the other demon were confirmed as the disgusting creature that had challenged and distracted him from the attack at the building earlier, now appeared in the hallway ahead, cackling.

It let a drawn out, shrill laugh. " _Weeeeee_ have... _sssssssssomething_ to _fffffinishhhhh_...boy!" it wheezed.

Dante swore he could see the creature’s maw distorted in a grin and grit his teeth. Tess looked at it over his shoulder and cringed, making a disgusted sound, but didn’t lose her composure.

She leaned in and coolly stated: “He's all yours if you want him. I'll handle the others. Just don’t get chewed up by handsome over there, he seems to like you."

Dante nodded with a smirk and flexed his neck, hearing it crack softly as he did so. He eyed the hissing pile of puss smugly.

"Nice to see you remember that I kicked your ugly ass! Didn't expect you to be _that_ smart!" he laughed defiantly.

He slowly advanced towards it. Last time, all he had to worry about was himself. This time he had to contend with making sure it didn’t get to Tess, who’d have her own hands full with the horde of Madmen. He was already anticipating the demon’s attack and was ready to counter. Behind him, Tess raised her arms and popped her knuckles, calmly glaring at the Madmen that were slowly circling them.

"They’re all completely gone," she muttered. “There’s nothing human left about them.”

Everything happened all at once. The demon barreled down the hall to attack Dante, raising the insect-like appendages from its back over-head, its stingers pointing ahead to ram into him. Seeing their leader attack, the Madmen hurled ahead too, in a completely disorganized fashion, even trampling over each other, like an aggravated mob out of control. They moaned and cackled, their eyes giving away the complete lack of mental clarity.

Dante ducked and rolled forward, dodging the first swing of the insect-legs, putting himself right where he wanted for his first move: Right under the demon's belly. Its stingers hit the ground where Dante had been standing with a hollow crack before it reeled back with a screech of pain. Dante thrust his sword upwards and through its gut before slicing out of the creature’s side. In one fluid motion, he pulled his sword hand back, drawing Ebony with the other and fired off six rounds at the nasty beast’s sternum. The monster staggered backwards from the force of the shots. Its appendages pulled back and shriveled against its back while it thrashed. Finally Dante pushed it further back by swinging his sword again and smashing in the demon’s chest. The same white liquid brimmed up from its wounds, mixed with blood, and it clotted equally fast.

Meanwhile, Tess halted the attacking madmen by ducking and slamming her open palm on the ground. From the point of impact a thrust wave of fire spread outwards in a circle. The madmen closer to her were knocked flat on their backs from the resulting shockwave, with burns on legs and torsos, and screaming in pain. The rest were knocked back, still standing but stunned and scorched. Before most of the Madmen could regroup and attack again, she stretched her arm and a flame-tongue like a whip snapped towards the closest creature.

It seared a deep gouge along his chest, making him thrash and scream erratically. Tess turned abruptly and lashed her 'whip' towards another Madman that was next in line, hitting his face and knocking him backwards while a mean sizzling sound came from his head. He didn't scream; he had died instantly. She kept swinging the flame whip around, keeping them at a distance while killing some by burning their heads off or searing through their chests.  

Dante and the demon went at it like maddened animals. The demon swung its stingers at him, and Dante would either dodge them or deflect them with his sword, jumping up and over if they came from under the ground. The demon would move, dodging and weaving to evade Dante’s swings and gunfire, screeching whenever it was hit. It’d attack him by jumping into the air as much as the high ceiling of the hallway would allow and slam its talon-totting feet where Dante was an instant before he’d dodged. The shambling horror would not relent and Dante never gave any indication that he was worried. He finally landed a particularly nasty hit with the sword in the demon’s chest, knocking it back with a large gash on its chest. The white, viscous fluid that came along with the blood now seemed to be healing the demon slower, but it still enabled the creature to keep coming. Suddenly the demon jumped back and with a rasp howl reared his head back. Dante could recognize that move; the last time the demon had done it, it had spit a disgusting glob on his face that nearly had suffocated him.

“Not this time, bastard…” he muttered quietly and gritted his teeth.

He closed the distance fast, his determined gaze locked on target, and the momentum he had carried him across the floor before he thrust the sword ahead. The blade went clean through where the clavicle would be with a squishy sound and a loud crack of bone and ligament. The force knocked the demon backwards and it slid right off the blade before tumbling backwards with a loud scream. It landed on its back and flailed around. Apparently, when knocked on its back, its appendages became pinned under its back and its arms, tied in that straight-jacket, wouldn't help it stand again.

The slayer sheathed his sword on his back as he approached the thrashing demon and drew its guns. He rammed a hard kick into the demon’s side, knocking it back down and planting a foot firmly on its chest he kept it down, ignoring its flailing legs with the talons cutting through the air and missing him. The insect appendages flailed, one pinned under the creature’s back and the other unable to bend around. Smirking gleefully, Dante aimed his guns at its head. He thought of how this abomination almost cost him a dear friend and his eyes grew red.

“Remember that talk about funerals we had? Well, yours is up…” he grunted.

Meanwhile, Tess had taken out several of the Madmen with precision, merciless kicks and use of fire attacks, while sometimes looking over her shoulder to check how Dante was doing. She had taken notice of the creature’s rapid regeneration and wanted to call to Dante that hacking off its head with a single blow could do the trick, but she was still burning through the horde of Madmen.

She heard rapid gunfire and glanced back as Dante filled the demon's head with lead, planting bullets in its skull faster than it could regenerate. The shots sliced and tore through its neck, severing the demon's head. The body beneath him tensed and the demon squealed a high-pitched screech as the bullets wrecked its cranium, face and neck. Dante pulled his leg back and drove a mighty kick to the disfigured, bloody head, ripping it off any shreds of bone and flesh it may have clung to. It slammed onto a wall, smashing like an egg and spreading blood and demonic brain-matter in a disgusting smear. After the body stopped squirming, Dante twirled his guns and holstered them both, stepping over the demon and making his way towards her with a satisfied smirk.

Tess hurled masses of fire around, striking Madmen in the face and driving them back; she had a pretty good control of the situation but to her annoyance, more of them came pouring in from the back hallway. Suddenly new blasts of gunfire pushed a few Madmen away from her and some of the shamblers turned their attention to their source.

Dante dodged under a Madman leaping right at him like an animal and slid along the old tiled floor on his knees, shooting at the Madmen he passed by, laughing gingerly. He slid right under the legs of a particularly tall one, firing a couple of rounds directly at his crotch before skidding to a stop, holstering the guns and drawing his sword in a wide arc that resulted in a Madman parting ways with his head in a spray of blood as the teenager got to his feet.

Tess was holding down a Madman's head under her foot and creating fire to burn him, while holding others at bay with her fire. Despite that multitasking, Tess watched him go like that and shaking her head softly, muttered: “Showoff…”

She pulled her foot off the Madman and turning abruptly, she dodged another one’s swing; she grabbed his arm and tripping him with a kick to the legs, used his own momentum to throw him over her shoulder. She sent him face-first into one of his brethren. Turning, she lashed a flame-tongue after them and then served a hard kick to the head of the Madman she'd been holding down.

Dante grinned watching her burn through Madmen. There were enough charred bodies strewn in the hallway to convince him that she was really taking her anger out on these creatures. He dug his sword into the face of a Madman that had tried to rush him. He jerked his sword upward, ripping off its head and flinging it as hard as he could at one of the others. He didn't care if it hit or not, he just wanted the demon scum off of his sword. He fought through the writing mass of altered creatures, cutting them down as they came in for him, wielding anything from rusty knives to broken pieces of metal.

By the time he got merely a few feet away from Tess, most Madmen were down, but there were still enough to surround them. He swung his sword in a succession of quick slashes, hacking through the grouped creatures, parrying some of their blows as he went. He impaled one, the blade going straight through and piercing a second Madman. While his sword was stuck there, Dante kicked off sideways, ramming his foot into the face of another, knocking him over. He yanked his sword back, then jumped as high as he could, nearly a meter and a half and brought his sword down on another's head, cleaving straight through its body.

He drew Ebony with his free hand, shooting a Madman in the face. "Doing okay?" he called to Tess.

He watched her seize a Madman's arm and moving fast, twisted it hard behind him, holding the twisted arm, and pressing on his shoulder with her other hand, swung him around so that he took the swing of another’s knife straight in the chest. The demon screamed, finding itself unable to move other than squirm despite the fact that it was larger than the girl currently holding it immobile.

"Just fine, thanks!" she shouted back.

She shoved the stabbed Madman away and abruptly ducked and launched her leg backwards and up, slamming her heel into the face of another Madman who came up behind her, knocking him off his feet with a dislocated jaw. As she stood up again, she blasted the stabbed Madman and his hapless stabber off their feet with a small explosion of fire and knocked them away from her and into yet another Madman who went down with them.

She paid no heed to the resulting screams and swept her leg ahead and up, kicking the Madman in front of her on the back of the head. As he fell, she raised her arm and when it came down, a mass of fire erupted from it, charring the Madman's head to cindered flesh and blackened bone. She then turned again and another of her fire whips lashed at the previous Madman she'd kicked, sending him to stagger back with a large burn sizzling across his chest. Dante was surprised to find that for her lesser experience and strength, the demons still couldn’t shrug what she did to them off.

Dante reared back and forced his sword through the Madman before him. Once it pierced its stomach, he twisted it and burrowed it deeper, forcing it through and into another one pressing up behind him. Dante pulled back at the blade, ripping through bodies, and then kicked the Madman’s chest, just above where the sword entered. The Madman was knocked backwards and Dante propelled himself with a short dash towards them. He jumped up and forced his feet forward, sending them both flying, to hit the ground and skid along it for a few feet, on their backs. Dante stood back up. The demons didn't.

He chuckled. "I’d say you and I work pretty good, Twig!"

As another Madman came for him, he swung his sword and cut a gash in its chest, bringing it to the ground, like the ones before it. Still holding Ebony, he aimed quickly and landed two shots in another approaching Madman's eyes. The Madman fell back, his head blown apart from the two bullets piercing it, sending blood, bone and brain matter everywhere. Judging by Tess’ expression, the spectacle disgusted her, even though she was setting another Madman on fire. He was a half-demon who enjoyed his hunt and there was nothing she could do about that. But he did have a sneaking suspicion that she was enjoying this fight more than she wanted to admit, though still nothing to his delight.

The Madman she had set on fire now flailed around, covered in flames, screaming hysterically and running into debris or falling into his brethren, searing and burning them with his flames. Tess dodged a Madman barreling towards her from the side and as he passed, she seized his arm and tugged back, making him yank around and slammed her fist on his face. Fire brimmed from her hand and when she pulled it back, the man threw himself up and back, holding his head as vile-smelling smoke rose from the rapidly burning flesh of his face. He thrashed and screamed for long, as his death was slow and exceptionally painful.

Dante cringed at the horrible burns she was inflicting upon the demonified people and their shrill cries as the ones on fire ran around like headless, burning chickens. He smiled and thought to himself, _Damn, she's gotten better!_

He ripped his sword through another particularly rotund nutcase, driving it through its oversized belly and ripping it out of its left side before kicking it away from him yet again. By now Dante’d noticed that these creatures might have been crazy enough to turn into demons but most of them were physically still human and easy to overcome. The porker he cut fell backwards and gargled up its own blood, squirming for just a moment before finally laying limp. Before he could take a breath, another one charged him yet again and drawing Ebony he shot the Madman in the face and neck repeatedly.

The last of the Madmen Tess had to deal with died fast. A couple of strong flame bursts and some fast kicks to their throats did the job easily. The only time one of the Madmen put her in a difficult position was when a larger one towered over her and slammed a heavy hand on her shoulder, forcing her to kneel from the pressure and raised a knife over his head. Instead of panicking though, she reacted aggressively before Dante could even get to her.

She glared at the Madman, shouted an obscenity that made Dante chortle despite himself and then treated the demon to her nastiest trick yet. It was almost as if a canon had fired off in his face; the Madman was whipped back as a condensed blast of almost white-hot fire ignited between him and the witch. It grew brighter and then shot at his head, literally burning the entire flesh and bones mass to brittle ashes. The limp body toppled over, the shrunken, blackened skull disintegrating and Tess stopped it from falling on her by shoving it to the side.

The intensity of the fire was so much that Dante felt it where he was standing, a good couple of feet away, and ducked. Not only to save his head from being scorched, but also to evade one of the last Madmen, a hulking specimen that tried to clobber him between two large fists. The end result was that Tess’ inferno-hot blast reached all the way to that behemoth and seared him so bad that it backed off, wailing with its burned hands over its face. Dante gave a small impressed whistle; the heat had been so intense that he’d felt some of his hair get singed, even from a distance.

He looked back to see Tess come off of her knees, staring at her latest victim with a menacing glare. His attention turned quickly to the Madman before him that was still flailing from his burns. He stood straight and brought his sword up in a slash attack that severed the madman's skull from the jaw to the forehead and the creature fell backwards with a thud. Smiling smugly, Dante replaced his sword on his back, put Ebony back in the back of his pants, walked over to Tess and quite spontaneously held out a fist to do 'pounds'.

Tess dusted off her clothes with an air of slight indignation, then smirked at him and held out her fist too, bumping it into his with a bit of a triumphant smirk.

"You’re right, we _do_ work nicely together,” she chuckled and combed some hair off her face. “And I have to admit…this is good venting. I feel better after hurting these things.”

Dante smiled silently while catching his breath. He was careful not to mention that this confidence and aggression she was displaying made her look different, in a way that really suited her; it was surprisingly attractive.

 _I think I might be having a little too much fun here,_ Dante thought gingerly.

“Let’s get moving,” he said. “We kicked a hornet’s nest here, and as much as I could beat on these crazy suckers all day, we’re still looking for a certain bigger fish…”

They stepped over the piled bodies still lying around as they walked down the hallway slowly, clambering over upturned gurneys and a fallen door. Ahead of them there seemed to be a T-junction and Dante glanced at Tess, silently asking her to pick a path.

Tess looked around, with a strange look, as if this place were familiar. She frowned. "Now I’m sure. I said I kept having nightmares well, this is it. This is the place. There's always this one corridor," she hesitated, looking at the two branches of the path, each of which opened into a wider hallway sporting doors that opened into medical rooms rather than cells.

"This one," she said, pointing at the left one. "I remember that debris and that upturned gurney."

The corridor that she started them down was narrow and ill lit; with some of the neon bulbs above flickered on and off, while the rest were smashed. Dust, grime and filth covered the broken tiles of the floor and rust runs came down from piping along the walls. The small windows along the walls were narrow and barred with rusted iron. The glass was opaque with dirt. They glanced in a few rooms, most of which looked like examination rooms filled with piles of almost antique equipment. In the far distance, a warped wheelchair lying on its side gave the corridor and eerie feeling. The wheelchair lay in what seemed to be a yellowish beam of light, coming through a slightly opened door. Once they reached it, they both noticed that there was a trail of dried blood leading from the wheelchair to the door.

Dante let a small huff. “Are you getting the feeling this is starting to feel like we’re in a low-budget creepy-fest movie?” he muttered to her.

Tess rubbed her arms as if she was cold, but she was merely getting goose bumps and shrugged. "I don't like this one bit either, but we're here now. We caused a ruckus and--" she let it trail off as she stopped and stared at the half-open door the wheelchair lay in front of. She tilted her head to the side, as if she had heard something.

Dante noticed and eyed her carefully. “Twig? What’s up?”

“Shhh…” she blurted and reaching out, she touched the toppled wheelchair.

It happened in a flash, or at least that’s how she saw it. Looking down at the wheelchair, she suddenly saw it upright with a man in a light blue hospital outfit sitting in it. She saw herself standing in the hallway and witnessing everything. He was skinny, with a skeletal, malnourished face and black-blue skin under bulging eyes. He nervously clutched a shotgun with bloody fingers, looking around in obvious fright.

_“The key. The key. Where did they hide that damn key,” the man muttered, using one arm to heave the wheelchair down the hallway, panting nervously and looking over his shoulder ever so often. “That…damn doctor better have it in his fucking office.”_

_The hallway was not in such a bad condition as it was when the teenagers came to it, but it bore the obvious signs of neglect and abandon. He came to an abrupt stop in front of the door and looked ahead, in fright. He stared at something standing behind her, yet Tess didn’t dare turn around to look. The man started screaming in a hysterical manner and there was no way she could understand what he said. She only saw him fidget and hold up the shotgun nervously. He was so hysterical about firing the gun that from his sudden movements, the wheelchair began to topple over sideways, right as he fired._

She shut her eyes suddenly, took a deep breath and when she opened her eyes, it was all gone. The vision had faded and she was back in the abandoned hallway with Dante.

“Hey, snap out of it. I don’t need you freaking out because of your crazy radar now of all times. What is it?” he asked.

Tess shook her head, surprised and blinked a couple of times. She looked down at the broken wheelchair, then the half open door. "This room, we need to get inside. I saw something...about a key."

She motioned to push the door open further, but it was jammed against the floor and it screeched loudly. "Dante, help me with this, the damn thing is stuck" she muttered, pressing her shoulder against the door and heaving.

Dante let an exasperated sigh and pressed his shoulder up against the door next to her, muttering before he heaved: "Still just a Twig…"


	17. The Maze Menagerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I gave up with titles. And grossed Dante out.

Chapter XVII: The Maze Menagerie

 

The metal door scrapped against the floor when they pushed it and the friction sound was so intense, Dante's teeth hurt. After the door was finally pushed open enough for them to pass, he pushed her out of the way to take the lead, just in case something in there was waiting to ambush them. As he crossed the threshold, something came whizzing by his ear. He turned his head to see some kind of _squiggly_ appendage dancing away rapidly then swinging around, missing him by inches. He backed up spontaneously, almost stepping on Tess' toes.

"What in blue hell--?" he blurted, out of sheer surprise.

What looked like an offended black tentacle had almost hit Dante in the face and it pulled back, directing their gaze to its owner. It looked like a hybrid of animal and plant, composed of a large number of tentacles, in various sizes, that seemed to sprout directly out of the ground. Some of the tentacles had small suction cups at the ends, like small mouths.

In the center of all the writhing mass lay a shorter, thicker trunk, of the same texture as the tentacles. It had a central 'bulge', gray and very fleshy, nestled on the top, surrounded by fleshy black ‘leaves’. Small red slits on each of the ‘leaves’ opened and closed in intervals. They seemed to be some sort of primitive optical system. The bulge squirmed and twitched erratically, as if something was thrashing in it, and the tentacles moved around and squirmed a lot. Many were gathered under a lone light bulb, attracted by its light and fidgeted around it as if they wanted to touch it but were driven back by the heat. Others were curled down on the ground, over what looked like a flayed and half-eaten lower torso and legs of a human, slurping up half-dried blood from it audibly. The rest of the body was hidden away under the mass of tentacles. The creature seemed to be sitting on the upper half of the body. The rest of the tentacles were twitching and squirming around the bulge in the middle.

The sound of the door scrapping the floor must have unsettled it, making it shoot a tentacle in the irritant’s direction, but didn't seem to be quite aware of them yet. The room looked like it was a medical examination room in the past, with a filthy and messy desk standing on one side, and an examination bed upturned under some smashed shelves on the other. A medicine cupboard against the other wall was dented and warped as if something had slammed into it, one of its doors having broken off.

Tess pushed in next to Dante and gapped at the sight, making a disgusted face. "Ew! Oh my God," she gasped. "That’s what he’d been shooting at when I saw a vision of him. No wonder he looked so terrified.”

“Huh? Who are you talking about?” Dante blurted, unable to take his eyes off the bizarre thing.

“The owner of that wheelchair we saw outside. I assume he’s the half-eaten body over there. I had a flash of his last moments while in the hallway; don’t ask. He must’ve been trying to escape and ran into this. I bet he retreated in the medical room to hide and it tried to pull him out for dinner,” she said.

“Tough luck for him…” Dante muttered. “So what’s to do in here?”

Tess scanned the room around them, stopping particularly at the desk and its drawers that looked haphazardly yanked open while papers and stationary was thrown about. “Bet he found that key he was looking for. I guess he’s still got it and the abomination over there has parked its slimy ass right on him,” she groaned. “Disgusting.”

Dante actually scoffed in disbelief and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? This is ridiculously predictable. Why do we even need to bother with this thing?”

Tess huffed angrily. “It’s my stupid second sight. I don’t know how it works, but I wouldn’t have seen this if it wasn’t important.”

Dante sighed in exasperation. “Come on,” he groaned. “I knew this wasn’t gonna be easy but this is ridiculous. This piece of wriggling demon turd is just stalling! What are we, in a video game?” Then he smirked. "Big Bad’s gotta be shakin’ in his pants if he’s tossing a tentacle monster to slow us down!”

Tess turned and looked at him wide-eyed with a weird look. “You _do_ realize, I hope, that you made it sound like one of those freaky things that show up in hentai anime and…rape people, right?”

Dante scratched the back of his head, looking at the monster. “Looks like one alright,” he said, chuckling. “Might wanna stay back or it might decide to _eat_ you—“

She cringed. “Ugh, let’s drop this subject before I get any disgusting mental images.”

Dante smirked at her reaction in a satisfied way and drew his sword, walking up to the creature. He slashed at the next tentacle that came his way, using the momentum from his swing to spin. As he spun, he drew Ebony and stopped as he came to the beast’s right side and he fired off three rounds at the squirming bulge.

Bits of cut tentacle flew in all directions, but the center trunk was protected because most of the tentacles curled around it and took the damage. What was worse, the tentacles that had been cut or shot regenerated tremendously fast and two thicker ones flailed at Dante, slamming into his chest and literally punching him backwards.

Tess cringed watching Dante fly back some five feet, slamming his back into the wall behind him. He stood up quickly, brushing himself off with an angry look on his face. He’d probably underestimated the ugly bundle of tentacles. Without saying anything, he lunged forward with a grunt, brandishing his sword and slid across the ground toward the creature. As he approached with tremendous speed, he thrust his sword forward and jabbed at the beast with all his might.

The tentacles reacted again and wrapped around the stem in a thick layer, stopping the blade. The demon let a low pitched screech and a mass of tentacles seized Dante's leg, pulled clean off the ground, and threw him against the door they had just entered. Tess tried to stop it from throwing him, but the tentacles simply regenerated when she burned them.

She did, however, notice that the tentacles looked more eager to return to the blood they had been slurping, rather than fighting. The cadaver there had been drained almost dry. As the tentacles trashed, one of them hit the door of a cupboard along the wall and the metal door flew off its hinges. She noticed something reddish in there.

Dante stood up from his latest flight, holding his ribs and gasping a bit. “This is ridiculous! I’m getting beat up by a goddamn plant…thing!” he blurted and frowned angrily.

“Dante, calm down--” she said, trying to get him to stop.

She noticed, with a certain degree of worry, that his aura was swelling and swirling faster around him in a way that it hadn’t done before. Either because he was feeling unusually frustrated or humiliated…or because something in the asylum was making him go wild. She glanced from him to the plant and then suddenly dodged the various tentacles that were now coming her way. The creature was getting more aware of their presence and had identified them as irritants. Possibly even as _food_. She backed away from them, up next to one of the storage cabinets near the back wall.

A tentacle flung by her and smashed the cabinet’s door, making it fall onto the floor with a loud bang. Tess shrugged away from it, but then she eyed the contents of the cabinet. Suddenly she ignored a couple of small tentacles groping her hair and back at random and reached inside the cupboard. She retrieved a couple of old but sealed blood-packs that maintained the blood in a liquid state. She smiled. This gave her an idea.

She flung one at Dante. "Dante, tear the bag! Spill the blood on the other side of the room, the scent will distract it!" she called.

Dante, who had just reeled back from another unsuccessful attack on the fleshy plant thing, looked up and caught the blood pack, and tore it open. He wound his arm to toss it across the room, understanding her plan almost immediately, but he suddenly stopped.

 _Have you ever wondered what human blood tastes like?_ A small voice in the back of his mind said. _Why don’t you try it, see what the demons make such a big deal out of?_

Dante tensed and shook his head vigorously, silently asking himself _What the hell am I thinking!? This is insane!_

He threw the bag and watched as one of the demon's tentacles shot up, trying to catch it as it passed, spilling its contents along the way. The blood bag splashed a mean stain all over the opposite wall and the dripping blood formed a puddle where the wall met the floor.

Tess tore another blood-pack open and spilled it on the floor on the other side of the room. She back-stepped as she did so and they both watched the tentacles react hectically to the blood. They made squishy sounds as they rustled and little by little abandoned the bulge on the trunk in the middle of the creature and made their way to the masses of blood on the floor and walls. The tentacles reached the blood and began sucking it off the floor with disturbing, slurping sounds. Tess grabbed another blood-pack from the cupboard, tore it open and emptied it on the floor. The presence of so much blood to feed on overwhelmed the instincts of the creature and most of the tentacles abandoned their protective role and slithered to the blood to feed on it. The entire creature seemed to move, slightly, leaning to the side and the crushed torso under it made small cracking noises, as bones and flesh were ground under the weight.

Tess gestured towards the exposed bulge in the middle of all the tentacles, which was now writhing more than ever. "Dante, now!!"

Dante had already started going for the exposed core of the creature just before Tess' prompt. His eyes glowed red and his aura was soaring like a well-fed flame. He gripped his sword so tight that his knuckled were white. He lunged forward, the momentum carrying him the rest of the way across the room. As he approached, the slayer jabbed, but instead of going through and through, he pulled back and jabbed again and again. He stabbed it repeatedly until the sword had penetrated at least a dozen times in the time it would take him to normal execute three jabs. His last thrust was powerful and as the sword pierced the trunk, it seemed to flash red.

The creature let an ear-piercing, high-pitched screech when Dante stabbed the bulge. The writhing center literally erupted in a fountain of dark-colored, thick and sticky blood that sprayed up from the center like a high-pressured spurt of water. Tess let a surprised gasp and pulled back as the tentacles went mad, flailing in all directions like whips as the center received more damage. Some of them hit Dante like lashes, but he ignored them. The creature kept screaming and screeching in a maddened manner as more blood spurted out from it. The 'trunk' of the creature was withering and shriveling up rapidly, the tentacles drying up and eventually stopped moving. The whole thing relaxed and finally stopped moving after a little bit. It looked like a dried up pile of tubing. And yet Dante wasn’t stopping.

He just kept on hacking and slashing at the thing with a maniacal grin on his face and it took Tess shouting at him to snap out of it. She had pressed her back against a wall with a disgusted and horrified expression, ignoring the sprays of blood that stained her shirt and jeans, staring with wide eyes.

"Dante!" she shouted. "Dante, stop, that's enough, it’s dead! _Stop_!!"

He heard her shouts and stopped at last, a few seconds after the thing was finally dead. Covered in that syrup-like blood, he panted, looking back at her in surprise and sheathed his sword, ignoring the strings of thick blood that stretched between his elbow and side. He blinked a few times and he realized he’d been almost seeing red all that time. He gulped and his attitude grew mild by comparison but he felt like he wasn’t calming down.  He looked at Tess, realizing that her expression was turning frightened. He shook his head a little again, to clear his head.

“Cool it, Twig, I’m fine,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her expression. “I just got a little cheesed off at the damn thing.”

Of course, he was lying through his teeth and he knew she could tell. He saw her frown at him as she got off the wall and rubbing her arms approached him hesitantly. She wiped some sticky blood from her face.

 “If you’re fine now, I’d hate to see you with a screw loose,” she muttered. “You made a massive mess. Help me move this thing," she added.

She started heaving the thick body of the demon plant off the human torso, obviously having some trouble before Dante pitched in, scoffing in surprise at the weight of the thing. After a few heaves, the pair was able to slide the dead mass across the floor, leaving blood streaks behind. In the puddle of the monster's sticky blood, lay the top half of the human, a mostly crushed human torso, with the head severed, or rather _chewed_ off, and the arms sprawled overhead. The flesh was mostly torn off the bones, but Tess pointed out that his hand was still clenched around something.

Dante bent down and picked up a large skeleton key from the clenched fist. The key briefly connected to the corpse’s skeletal hand with a string of sticky blood, but came free once Dante had lifted it high enough off the ground. Smiling in a self-satisfied manner he wiped the key off the best he could with his shirt and held it in front of Tess, offering it to her. It was a plain looking, kind of old skeleton key, with a tiny chain hanging off its round end. It seemed to have been snapped off from a longer chain.

Tess stood straight as he picked up the key. "Now we gotta find the door it fits in I guess," she muttered, holding up her hand to take it. She paused. “Oh. Did you feel something while holding the key?” she asked.

“No, why?”

“That’s odd. Something about the key feels strange,” she said, weighing in her hand.

“It’s probably just the asylum,” Dante said impatiently. “You said it’s been screwing with your head since we got here.”

Tess sighed. “I guess… Anyway, if I remember from my nightmares, there was a door at the end of a staircase. It gave me the impression of leading deep underground..."

He shrugged. "A cellar maybe? We passed a lotta doors on the way here."

He stopped to think. It wouldn't be that easy if the key was actually guarded but then again that could have been coincidental. He’d never seen a demon that was putting him through so many loops. Most of them just came straight out to kill him, and being played with like this was pissing him off.

“I bet it’s gonna be a long walk,” he sulked. “Secret doors, keys hidden under bloodsucking tentacle monsters…this is getting ridiculous.”

Tess stared at him as he said that. “I know,” she sighed. “He’s playing with us. But I don’t think it’ll be a cellar. I remember…it’s a regular door but not something you’d find on an upper or ground floor, I think.”

She pocketed the key and walked past him. “It could even be a morgue or an incinerator room. I think many hospitals had in-house incinerators before the 1900s. I know it’s crazy but we have to look for that door. I think I can take us to it.” She paused and gulped as she went back outside in the corridor. “I mean…I’ve seen us here. We’re being strung along, but how much choice do we have?”

The corridor was quiet, besides the occasional mad howls, laughs and hysteric screams coming from the distance. Those never stopped. Tess bit her lip slightly. The presence of those madmen all over the place was probably getting to her head. When they resumed their trek through the asylum, Tess stuck to him a little more closely than before.

“I still can’t swallow what’s happened to these people. To be overwhelmed by insanity so much is…well, crazy,” she muttered.

“Weakness, I guess. Some people are just into that stuff,” he replied, having his own concerns.

He wasn’t sure what they’d find if they headed to lower floors, but she'd been right up to now, so there was no use arguing. He did however have a bad feeling about the fact that her power was leading her around like that. If, as she claimed, she didn’t fully understand it, he wondered whether it was possible that someone could _manipulate_ it and lead her straight into some kind of trap.

In the meantime, they stumbled across a stairwell that seemed useable enough and which Tess identified as being familiar. On their way down, they found a couple of Madmen wandering around the landings and the stairs as well. They easily dispatched the annoying demon-people and in those fights in confined spaces, Tess turned out to have a natural knack of utilizing space to her advantage, kicking madmen, rebounding off walls to change her momentum’s direction abruptly and add force to her kicks. Dante of course wasn’t even really trying in dealing with the nuisances anymore, but somewhat enjoyed himself watching her getting more used to the fights.

As they rounded the last set of stairs to get to the floor below, he finally voiced something he’d been thinking about. "This demon’s almost trying to tire us out so that when we get to him, we're tuckered out," he said. "Either he’s scared or he’s playing with us.”

He stepped over a corpse wearing a decomposing medical outfit. He looked like a member of the staff of the asylum, even through all that decay. As he did, Dante looked at him over his shoulder and joked, "Wonder what's got him down."

He expected a laugh or a chuckle, but Tess was too shaken from seeing it and too nervous from the place, even if she didn’t show it, to react to the joke. When he realized, he spoke again. "Ah, whatever, looked like a rotten sop.”

Tess let a small sigh. “I don’t know, Dante. This demon… I don’t know whether he’s even adhering to any logical plan. We’re probably more like mice to him and he’s getting a kick out of watching us run around like this," she said, looking up and down at the dark hallway. This basement floor had no windows and all the light came from weak light bulbs on the ceiling, many of which were about to give up their last breath. “We’ve been here for at least a couple of hours and yet the building didn’t look that big from the outside…”

Dante shrugged. “Well he’s about to find out that these mice are gonna bust his ass,” he said confidently and

Finally they came across a door at the bottom of a short yet steep staircase and Tess stopped him. “Wait, this…this is it!” she blurted. “It has to be. Let’s try it.”

Dante glanced at a dirty sign next to the door that he thought read _‘Storage and Morgue’_. He frowned, feeling that it may have been a little too easy but didn’t voice it.

They went down the stairs and finally came the old door, which seemed to be made of steel. After some hesitation, Tess fit the key they had retrieved into the lock. It fit snugly. She tried to turn it. It took some effort, and she muttered about her hurt fingers, but it turned with a loud clicking sound. She turned it again, completely unlocking the door with a second loud click. She glanced at him, shrugged and then pressed down the handle knob, pushing it open and stepped through.

The door opened into a plain room with a couple of standing shelves on both sides. It was rather cluttered with old beds, crates, cardboard boxes and lots of dust and cobwebs. A little surprised, Tess crossed the room and headed for another door straight at the back. She turned the knob but it wouldn't open. She rattled the door a little and just when it seemed hopeless, it suddenly swung open with a loud band, as if whatever was blocking it was gone. She stumbled ahead, then gasped and back-stepped abruptly.

"W-what!? No way!!" she panted. "We can't be _this_ high up!"

Dante followed her through the second door to see what got her so upset and when he was next to her, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Beyond the open door stretched a cellblock lined around a large rectangular hole in the middle that allowed view to the lower and upper floors. Only instead of one or two floors more above them, they could distinguish at least six or seven floors of identical cellblocks _below_ them, even though they had entered the building from a ground floor and by now had gone down at least one basement floor. And worse yet, there was just one floor overhead.

Very little light came in the huge hall and the semi dark atmosphere was not alleviated by the appearance of it. The walls were dirty, covered in rust-colored runs and indescribable smears all over them. Most of the bars of the cell doors were swung open, warped, dented or even broken, brown from rust and grime. Beds and other cell furniture were scattered all over, some hanging off the steel bars surrounding the hole in the middle, others lying around broken and useless. Some gurneys lay piled in a corner in disuse, filthy from rust and grime. The whole place reeked of deterioration and abandonment. Hysterical laughs, moans and gibberish mad talk issued from the vast area below them.

And as if to add an ironic touch to their predicament, when Dante walked through the door to follow Tess, it slammed shut right behind him and the second they both turned to look...it was simply not there. The wall stood silent and blank, where once there was a door. They stared at the wall they had just come through, without talking. Dante walked over to where the door had been and felt the wall. Solid, like the door had never even been there to begin with. All it took for them to agree to not discuss it was a glance.

“This feels more like Hell now than the human world,” he stated grimly.

“Yes…but we’re still on our side. I don’t think I’d be standing if we’d somehow gotten led into the Underworld. Heck, I don’t think I’d even be alive,” she confessed. “This feels more like part of the Underworld is slipping into the human world.”

Dante nodded in agreement and examined the space over the metal railing, the hole going down below. The lower levels seemed equally dark and claustrophobic as the one they were currently on.

He raised his brow. "Dunno if I can jump _that,_ " he said. “We might have to go down though. Maybe not all the way, but we gotta do something, ‘cuz this here," he held out his arms, “is a dead end.”

Tess stared back at him with wide eyes. "No. No _way_ I’m jumping down there, even on your back or whatever. I'd rather have to fight my way down than jump. Come on," she stated decisively and tugged his arm to pull him along.

They went down a staircase just a few feet away from them and it looked like they could run through most this chaotic place without having to fight every single thing in their way.

"I still can’t believe this. Contorting space…that’s serious stuff,” she muttered as they went down the first flight of rickety and rusted metal stairs.

For his part, Dante was neither surprised, nor impressed. He was annoyed more than anything, interpreting this kind of progress as a clear path into a trap. Nevertheless, he followed Tess, his arm always ready to draw a gun or his sword. Occasionally he would twitch a little or jerk his hand or head aside because he was still covered in blood from that tentacle thing, and the sticky substance would trickle over his skin and bother him. He absently wished for a shower and as he watched Tess walk in front of him, mischievously wondered if she’d care to join him.

He shook his head and sighed quietly to himself. _Time and place man, time and place._

They mostly barged down the next couple sets of stairs without much trouble. The floors they passed by seemed identical, equally filthy, dark and populated with Madmen in various stages of demonic deterioration or madness; some too preoccupied with mundane actions like butting their head against a wall, some chasing them for a foot or two but stopping once they lost sight of them and some even having turned against each other and completely ignoring them.

They'd passed three or so floors when the staircase came to an abrupt end. The hole in the middle of the space kept going for what seemed an endless depth. Several Madmen that were crouched over something --a body that they were actually pulling flesh off of and eating-- looked up at them, slightly bewildered for a moment, then suddenly sprang up and rushed them. Tess dodged to the side, along the wall and stretching her arm, made an arch of fire burn the ones closest to her. One fell and the rest stumbled back, screaming and beating flames off themselves.

Dante took a ready stance, not yet touching his sword or guns. Just as the closest demon rushed him, he dropped low and forced himself forward, stretching one leg and tripping the Madman, then rolling sideways. He stood suddenly, pulling his guns as he did and spun to slam the butt of Ebony into the forehead of the next abomination then shooting at the next Madman as quickly as he could. The cracks from his gunshots echoed throughout the space but were drowned by various grunts and groans. He holstered his guns and drew his sword, then swung the blade like a baseball bat and lobbed off a head, following through to bury the side of the blade in the torso of another Madman. He drew back his blade, cutting through the flesh right down to the bone and stood calmly as the stragglers made their way to them.

He looked over at Tess and grinned to see her fighting off her attackers fairly easily. “Light ‘em up, Twig!” he chuckled.

He saw Tess smirked at him. She swung her leg and kicked a Madman under the chin, making his head whip backwards violently. She pulled the same leg back, turned and thrust it out sideways again, kicking the Madman in the chest and knocking him backwards. He stumbled back, knocked against the railing surrounding the hole and then fell right off, as the crumbled concrete floor cracked and the rusted railing gave away. The Madman let a loud howl as he plummeted down into the hole, making her cringe and warning the two teenagers about how brittle that railing could be.

Ultimately it was fairly easy for the two of them to get rid of the Madmen and before they could even dust themselves down they heard a loud sound behind them. It sounded like the friction of metal against metal and then a terrible thudding sound came from one of the cell doors around them. They heard a loud scream from inside a corridor, blocked out with bars and then the mutilated body of a Madman slammed against the bars with a revolting sound, spattering blood. A large figure thudded after it and a Madman of huge proportions came into view. He was almost as twice as tall as an average person and equally wide.

His arms looked like tree-trunks and his skin was gray, bleached under the filth and grime. His face was large, angular and almost ape-like with a square jaw. He had wide yellow eyes that span around erratically, a wide mouth contorted in some kind of snarl, the lower lip slightly hung and showing his teeth. He wore only tattered and filthy pants and his shoulders were contorted from what looked like spikes made of bone growing out of them. He walked with a peculiar hunch. On his naked torso, a horrible-looking, demonic dace had surfaced, just under his ribcage. It had two uneven eyes; black with red irises and a mouth gapping open with uneven teeth, shaped like odd triangles. It bore no particular expression, besides a motionless, maddened gaping.

The large Madman grunted and slammed its body against the bars, denting them and squishing the body of the smaller Madman against them as well. He rammed the bars again and most of them gave way, the concrete cracking and crumbling, letting them go. Tess and Dante were left staring at the spectacle and even took a step or so back. The huge Madman snarled and swung his arm at the bars, flinging some away and pulling at others angrily. He pulled his other arm into view and they saw he was carrying a large, heavy hatchet of some kind. He finally obliterated the bars, sending most flying and stomped into the cellblock, grunting like a bear and looking around, maddened. He zeroed in on Dante and stomped at him, letting a hoarse grunt and swinging the hatchet overhead.

Dante had very little time to react and he was incredibly lucky that he did. Upon seeing the beast, his eyes widened, but self-preservation took over and he dived out of the way, rolling over to Tess.

He stood in a ready stance between her and the behemoth and muttered: “Guess you better get outta the way of this bulldozer, Twig.”

Still winded from the last fight, Tess did not protest as he gently pushed her back towards the back wall while he kept his eye on the massive creature. Dante then took a few steps towards the behemoth, parried the hatchet with a swing of the sword and bounced it back, making the Madman stagger. It snarled angrily at its failure and resumed its attack, swinging the hatchet again and forcing the two teens to part ways to confuse him. Dante lured the massive demon away from Tess and to the side, but didn’t let it corner him even as he backed into the other wall. As the demon lunged him again, Dante smirked and ran into the wall the demon was chasing him towards, planted a foot against it and pushed off, back-flipping through the air. As he passed over the demon’s head, he drew out Ebony and Ivory and unloaded round after round into the Madman's cranium from above. Landing on his feet in a crouch, he turned, faced the behemoth and put away his guns to draw his sword again.

When the bullets pierced its head, the Madman thrashed, holding its head, screaming and shouting in pain. It dropped to a knee with a thud, still thrashing, with blood flowing down its body. The mouth on its torso let a chocked hiss. He then stood up again and stampeded back towards Dante like a battering ram, swinging the hatchet horizontally, right and left in a maddened manner.

Meanwhile, a second huge Madman came from the corridor, carelessly stepping over remains of bars and body parts of the smaller Madmen. It was almost as large as the first one, but looked scruffier and carried no hatchet. He wore an inmate's uniform, once white, now gray, red and brown from the caked filth, dried and fresh blood alike and torn in places. His face was rounder, with short and dirty stubble about his cheeks and chin. His hair was also lighter colored than the other one, a filthy yellow and greasy as it was, some stuck to his face. Its mouth was gapped open a little and he had the expression of a mentally impaired individual.

Tess took notice of it while Dante was busy with the first one and quietly prayed it would not join the fray as she was about to help Dante out with fire. But unfortunately for her, while it watched the fight with a curious, confused look, it looked around and noticed her. She bit her lips nervously and cussed when it let a weird sound like a grunt and headed for her. It had a strange, demented parody of a grin on its face. It moved slowly at first, but then picked up a pace, its large feet pounding against the concrete floor.

“Oh, no no no…” she blurted, backing up.

It raised its huge, gnarly hands to grab her and she panicked. If he caught her, he'd surely snap her back without even trying. She let a scream and back-stepped away from it, swinging her arm ahead and making a whip of fire that she swung at it. It burned into the demon’s face and let a sizzling sound as flesh was scorched. The huge Madman let a loud howl of pain, his hands reaching to his face as he flailed in agony. He thrashed about a little, then pulled his hands away, looked down at her and roared at her, spewing a torrent of vulgar curses and lunged at her again, his burned face contorted in pure rage.

The girl panicked and knowing perfectly well that she could not stop that rampage neither with fire, nor with witchcraft, she turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, along the side of the rectangular cellblock. She leapt over fallen doors, pieces of debris and overturned gurneys, while the madman behind her charged blindly like a bull, swinging his arms and flinging those obstacles aside and into the air like they were cardboard. They smashed on walls or tumbled into the chasm in the middle of the cellblock floors. Tess cussed when she saw that the floor ahead of her had collapsed partly, creating a dangerous gap that was no way within her jumping range. There was only a narrow bundle of rusted piping running alongside a ventilation duct suspended there against the wall, once covered by the floor, having survived thanks to being attached to the wall instead of the floor itself. The mass of metal was rusted and looked flimsy, not really capable of suspending the weight of a person.

But she cast a look behind her at the Madman and didn't allow herself to think. She stepped onto the old pipes. The moment her full weight was on the ventilation duct, it dented with a loud screech but she did not stop or slow down. As she ran across them, the pipes’ supports began failing, denting and crumbling under her feet, but she stuck to it even as it collapsed under her. She stuck her arms out, flailing awkwardly to maintain her balance. The Madman behind her was dangerously close to catching her. He came to an abrupt stop near the edge of the broken floor and let a surprised grunt when the flimsy concrete under his feet began to crumble from the edge inwards, caving in under him.

Just as Tess threw herself off the falling pipes and onto the concrete of the other edge, the pipes detached completely and fell into the floor below, breaking into pieces and collapsed the piece of floor below and into the chasm. The bit of floor the Madman had stopped onto broke completely under its weight and the gargantuan man fell to the side, plummeting head first into the abysmal light well in the middle of the cellblock floors. Tess had landed on the other side awkwardly, hanging off the edge from the waist down. She yelped and clawed at the floor, finally getting a hold onto the side of the railing and on a crack in the floor. She heaved and scrambled, and finally succeeded in pulling herself up, while her heart raced from fear. As soon as she was fully on the solid floor and away from the edge, she turned over and looked towards Dante.

She saw that he was actually struggling with the remaining Madman, who was taking impossible amounts of damage without going down. Dante shot a few more rounds into its head and yet it did nothing to stop it from swinging at him and nearly catching him in a backswing that would’ve launched him off his feet for sure.

“Dante!” she blurted.

“This is retarded! They're supposed to Mad- _men_! This fatass won’t go down!" Dante grunted in response.

He darted away from the lardy demon-man before him, leaving it to pound its massive fist onto the ground where he’d stood. He drew his sword again and ran the opposite way Tess had before stopping to spin on his heel. He was now a decent distance from the abomination and he wound up his sword as it came barreling in for him with a series of throaty grunts, not unlike those of a angry grizzly bear. Right as the it came within reach of him, Dante took a step forward, jumped into the air and with a twist of the body brought the blade down onto the demon’s head just as it swung its arm out to smash him. The impact was so hard that the demon stumbled forward with the blade having cut off a slice of the side of its head. Dante found himself balancing precariously on the demon’s shoulders while it stumbled forward still and immediately jumped off, lest he go down with it.

He gritted his teeth as he landed because the demon recovered from that devastating hit. His eyes flashed red for a moment as he returned to the demon, not allowing it to even fully turn back around. He wound his arm back and with a mighty swing threw the blade straight into the creature’s neck, where it hit with a squishy sound and a light crack. He followed through immediately by drawing his guns and repeatedly shooting the hilt of the sword, digging it ever so deeper into the demon’s clavicle. The demon reeled back from the stacked momentum of the consecutive impacts, especially after some of Dante’s shots became charged and flashed red. Its stance now unstable, Dante jumped at it and without hesitation landed a powerful kick to its face, completing the job of gravity and taking it back and onto the ground on its back.

Standing on the beast’s chest, he heard Tess shouting something but he was too focused on his fight. He didn’t let the demon try to get back up, but twirling his guns, planted them into the demon’s face, almost shoving them into its mouth and opened fire. The charged shots more or less blew the head to pieces with large splashes of blood that sprang up like fountains and disturbing crunching sounds. The behemoth Madman thrashed momentarily, actually succeeding in getting up on its elbow and attempting to snatch him, but in the end it was too late for it. A few final shots obliterated the head for good and the heavy body fell flat on its back again with a resounding thud that made the floor vibrate for a moment.

Dante twirled his guns and holstered them casually with a satisfied smirk, just to make it look all too easy. Before he could utter a really clever one-liner he came up with though, he heard a very suspicious crackle from underfoot. He looked down and immediately knew what Tess had been shouting about: He saw cracks running on the corroded concrete, passing under the body of the demon. He heard more suspicious cracks and Tess shouting yet again.

“Dante! Get the fuck off that part! It’s about to go!!” she shrieked from her side of the broken floor. 

“Shit!” he blurted despite himself.

He drew his sword out of the demon’s body as he jumped off it, and with the blade in hard he ran for his life towards Tess. All the while, the cracking and crumbling noises from the concrete underfoot grew louder. He heard the sound of metal denting, groaning and breaking under pressure. He was still some twenty feet from the edge when the ground beneath him started to give away. His eyes turned red in a flash, his heart pounded with anxiety and a tinge of fear. He only had six feet to go when he then realized the impossible jump that was before him.

That gap left by the falling piping and the part of the floor that the other Madman had taken down with him had widened to some fifteen feet wide, maybe more. His eyes widened.

_Oh shit, what the hell did I get into!? I’ve never jumped that far…_

But something in his brain clicked in place and instead of stopping he ran faster. Almost at the edge, he lunged forward, jutting his sword out in front of him with a strong thrust of the arm. He slid along the ground the rest of the way to the edge and when he reached it, he went _airborne_. The momentum of his stinger carried him all the way across to Tess' side safely...

…except he didn’t pay enough attention and tripped over the slightly raised edge on her side and landed with a thud, flat on his face. His sword flew from his hand and slid some five feet ahead of him with a metallic clang. Tess had hurriedly pulled aside against the wall to avoid being hit by the sword or him and squeaked in surprise when he slammed on the floor just in front of her. He grunted and stood up, brushing himself off and his eyes coming back to their normal color.

He looked at her with a cheesy smile, even as his heart was still racing. “Not bad, eh?”

She stared at him, then both looked back at the collapsed cellblock path, falling further down with the deafening crash of concrete and groaning of metal, taking out portions of the floors below it as it went. Then she looked back at him and let an exasperated huff.

“You can be so careless…” she muttered and tapped her knuckles on his head gently.

He growled. “Oh come on, I had to do that! How else—“

“But that _was_ pretty cool too,” she added with a chuckle and a sly smile. “You’re such a show-off. But your landing needs work.” 

Dante pretended not to hear the compliment as he picked his sword up but in reality he ate it up and had to strain not to smile smugly, even if he had her back to her.

“Anyway, where do we go from here?” he asked, sheathing the sword while looking around them. “And where the hell are we?”

They seemed to have come to a dead end since there were no other stairs to descend and only half a floor left for them to follow. They had descended enough for the feeble light that came in through the glass ceiling all those floors above to be growing insignificant.

Tess hesitated a little before answering. "With the way this place's space continuum is fucked over, I'm not entirely sure where we _really_ are. But I have a--" she started but then uttered a sharp gasp and a cry of pain.

Dante whipped around, to see her clutching her head with her hands cupped over her ears. Her face was contorted in a grimace of pain with her eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders shrugged, while she started to hunch over with small pained grunts and yelps.

“Tess?! What’s going on?” he blurted.

She shook her head while still in that pose and trembled all over. "A-ah--oow! What the...? Ow, _ow_! Not-not now!" she groaned and pressed her hands against her ears harder. She looked like she was dealing with a very loud sound that was deafening her.

Watching her, Dante realized he was feeling something too, like the air growing heavy and suffocating. It was the same sensation he’d had whenever the Madmen would descend into the final stage of their madness, or when the fannysmackers that had attacked them suddenly went crazy. He strained a little and could almost hear something like static in the air.

 _It’s gotta be her sixth sense or whatever it’s called,_ he thought.

He stood with his hands halfway raised, as if he wasn’t sure whether he ought to take hold of her or not.

“Aaah, it’s not stopping! There’s so much…noise!” she blurted. “They’re not shutting up!”

“Who isn’t shutting up?”

Dante winced. It seemed to be getting worse because she hunched over even more and just whimpered a little. Every time he’d witnessed one of these manifestations of her power, he was left with the feeling that they were exceptionally painful for her. He wasn’t completely surprised when she fell to her knees and he hurried to her side on his knees as she whimpered in pain, clutching her head and shaking. He couldn’t help himself and lifted her up before she rolled face-down on the floor and tried to shake her out of it, but this time she wasn’t responding.

She just kept her hands on her head, her eyes shut and shook her head in a negative gesture, mumbling over and over: “Stop…stop it. I don’t want to hear any more. Leave me alone! No, no, that’s--that’s a _lie_! He’s not like that, no!” she nearly sobbed. “He’s not like them! Shut up, _just shut up_!!”

Dante felt awful. He guessed that whatever was tormenting her was trying to sow distrust and wariness in her mind about him, possibly to try and separate them. She was enduring what seemed to be an excruciating experience, but she refused to give in to it. That act of devotion touched him in a way things never did anymore. He put his hands over hers, pulled her against him and softly told her to calm down. He was almost childishly wishing he could give her some of his strength, or that his aura might somehow stop whatever was tormenting her.

“Fight it off Tess, just ignore it. It’s not really there, it’s just trying to get to you,” he muttered, naively hoping it might drown out the voices. 

Finally she started to relax in his hold and her strained pants grew smoother as the tension melted away. He still held her and clenched his teeth quietly; this couldn’t have been just her own power, something was screwing around with it. It was making her suffer in a needless way that she didn’t deserve. And that pissed him right off…


	18. The Mad God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I drive Dante mad.

Tess had blacked out so much from the assault of the deafening sounds and the visions and pain the whole thing caused, that she didn't quite realize that she had fallen to her knees. She had just pressed her hands on her head and shut her eyes, trying to block out everything. Every time her pre-cognitive abilities kicked in like this it drove her senses wild, most of the times painfully, like now.

Just as her eyes had started watering from the sharp pain, the blaring started to dissipate a little. She felt safe. She panted, slowly taking her hands off her ears and managed to open her eyes at last, to a strange sight. She found herself face to face with a demon, red-eyed and quite intimidating, but somehow strangely familiar. Its aura felt familiar. She absently registered it was Dante. She blinked once and the vision was gone, she was looking right at the face she was used to.

He wasn’t even trying to hide how concerned he looked. His face was calm but there was a certain look his eyes that spoke volumes about what was going on in his head.

She took a deep breath and pulled back a little. "I'm ok now. It was just another stupid vision. It’s over now.”

“You sure?” he asked, reluctantly letting her go.

“Yeah. I don’t know why they’re getting so strong. It could be all this demonic presence around us or…or something else in this place,” she said quietly.

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Like madness you can feel on your skin, right?”

She hesitated. “Yeah. It’s everywhere.” They stood up. “Let’s keep moving.”

“After you, then,” Dante muttered, holding out his arm in a gesture of awkward chivalry.

She glanced at him for a moment while they walked on. He’d grown so quiet ever since this all began and she never thought she’d see him this way. But instead of worrying her, she found comfort in his presence and the way he was dealing with the whole situation. It kept her calm too. When they first broke into this place she'd felt herself get scared and nervous. But every step they took down the same path, together, reminded her that she wasn't dealing with this alone, which all had been what held her back in so many situations before. He didn’t need to say it out loud that he was determined to see this through with her.

"Come on," she said, tugging his coat's sleeve gently. "We must be getting close if things are getting freakier."

They headed along the remaining cell block path. Most Madmen had perished or fled from the last collapse and so they could take a short breath and not run along. After Tess hesitated a little, they went down a hallway in the middle of the short end of the remaining cell block. It was dark and damp, with no windows, only rough and filthy concrete walls lined with small light fixtures that shed a cold, white light weakly. Some were in bad condition, flickering on and off occasionally.

Dante looked around him as he walked, trying to reconcile his desire to find the one behind all this and this newfound sense of caution he had. He was eager to fight, but he had to remind himself that he also had a job to do: Make sure Tess got out of this alive. He admired her determination to press on and put an end to this chain of chaos that cost so many people their lives. He felt obliged to join in, take that step off the edge and into the unknown, the violence and horror. Although they had started this as a personal revenge, it was plain to him that neither was thinking only of themselves. They were in this for the sake of others because they alone knew about this mess. And only they could do something about it.

"We're underground again," Tess said, looking around. She didn’t sound surprised.

Dante shook his head. “And we were just some four floors up or something. I’m pulling the bullshit card on this nut-job.”

Silence always frustrated him, especially when it came in packages like this. He always felt more comfortable in the thick of battle, facing the enemy directly, rather than skulking about playing games like this. The deeper they went into this suffocating passage, the more he felt agitated and aware, his gut feeling urging him to keep his guard up.

“It’s so strange," she said. "This demon has manipulated space to the extreme and yet we're going the right way. I remember all this from my visions. I never got to the end of this shaft. I don't know what's at the other end... But I always have the same feeling: I didn't really want to go there.”

Dante looked at her. She looked nervous but she kept her cool admirably well. She was barely biting her lip and looked ahead of her with a wide-eyed expression, but she wasn’t panicking and Dante knew her enough by now to understand that she was frightened, but not enough to run away. Their arms brushed up against each other as they walked and Dante fought the urge to grasp her hand and give it a squeeze to calm her.

She looked around at the dark and damp walls of the passage and shrugged.

“Dante…” she muttered. “Wait.”

They stopped and he turned to face her. “What’s wrong?” he blurted.

“Nothing, I just…” She fidgeted and couldn’t look at him. “I’m…I’m so sorry you got dragged into all this. We’re so deep into this now…I think this has been about me all this time and...I got you involved. I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you’re here.”

She suddenly started to pester her hair, twirling a strand around her finger nervously and bit her lip. “You kept me from freaking out back at the house…and now you’re here with me. I don’t know if I could get this far if you weren’t here…”

Dante felt his face get hot despite himself and was grateful for the awful lighting of the place. “Don’t mention it, Twig…I mean, might as well. If _you_ hadn’t gotten me into this, I know that one way or another I’d have gotten dragged in anyway. I tend to draw that kind of attention,” he said awkwardly.

He’d managed to keep his cool but he couldn’t help that his ego felt like it should be running around giddily from hearing her.

“Just relax. We’re gonna be fine,” he blurted and Tess smiled.

“You almost sounded nervous there,” she giggled. “Let’s get going before we both start getting sidetracked.”

He grinned; her smile lifted his spirits. “Not gonna disagree with that.”

The shaft they now followed kept going down-slope for a few dozen feet and then they hit a narrow flight of stairs, stretching about a floor below. At its bottom, the shaft continued down-slope but the lights along the side were much weaker, in worse condition than the previous ones and even more of them were out or flickering in their last power. Soon enough, the last somewhat functional light was behind them.

Up ahead, they saw some odd fixtures protruding slightly from the walls and getting in the way of lights up ahead. Dante squinted to get a better look at what they might be and for a moment he thought they looked rather like roots, but that didn't make so much sense in an underground concrete passage. Gradually, as they got closer to those obstructions, the passage felt like it was growing narrower or maybe it was just a claustrophobic sensation he got.

When they were among those fixtures that protruded from the walls, Tess suddenly started to press against him and away from the walls, while looking at them very cautiously. Dante looked around carefully. The weak lights and the flicker of some further ahead didn't allow them to see much but as he observed the structures closer he thought the objects on the walls looked like _figures_.

They passed by a light that was flickering feebly and looked like it was about to go out, when it suddenly let a tinkering sound and lit up rather brightly, enough for Tess to realize that she was staring at a man's face--who looked like he was growing out of the wall, up to his torso, while one of his arms was sunk into it up to the elbow. The eyes were dark and empty and the skin pale and looked like stone. The face looked eerily alive. The sight caused her to press up against Dante closely and gasped.

Dante himself felt like he was in a silly amusement park’s haunted house as he beheld the figures while they continued down the passage. He didn't think they were actually alive, so when Tess pressed into him, he wasn’t sure if he ought to smirk or not. Looking up they realized that both walls of the passage were in fact _covered_ by human figures growing out of them in various degrees. Torsos, heads, arms, legs grew haphazardly out of the wall, almost on each other and were petrified in a sort of frantic motion frozen in time. The figures clung to the walls mostly, but loose limbs would hang down near them or stretch out of walls, immobile.

Although she remained silent as her instincts told her not to, because it might wake those horrifying things up, Tess wanted to scream. Fortunately for both, Dante was infinitely calmer and she took a deep breath to calm down, but to no avail. She felt the hair on the back of her neck prick up and her entire body tense. She observed the figures on the wall. They were immobile and any of the faces that were out of the wall felt like they were looking straight down at them. She began noticing their expressions; they ranged from fear, to despair, to anger and insane laughs. She got the oddest thought that these immobile figures were wards and asylum denizens, maybe even former prisoners when this place was a jail.

She turned to Dante and saw him looking closer at the walls and the figures on them. They stopped. Maybe she had been wrong after all. Yet Dante didn't look at her. He had caught sight of something, an otherwise imperceptible slight motion and Tess tensed, watching him.

“What is it?” she asked.

Dante’s gaze was fixed on the walls, darting around the figures. He looked like he knew something was off and it made her tense. He suddenly brought his hand to his sword’s hilt and after a moment’s hesitation he drew it.

“Dante, what’s the matter?” she pressed more anxiously.

“Shh…” he hissed and held the sword at his side. “Let’s get some light here. Light me!” he said in an abrupt tone.

That line was so out of place that she really thought he’d been messing with her just to get her mind off things or something.

“Light you?” she quipped. “What, you want your pants on fire?”

But his tone upon response was a little bit nervous and it made her uneasy. “Not the time to joke, Tess.”

Tess looked warily at the figures, which looked to be angry and malicious, yet in deep pain as well. They heard a faint crumbling sound and then smelled moist soil. A haze of dust cloud tumbled down, caused by shifting rock.

“Dante…they’re trying to move,” she uttered.

“I know,” he growled.  

The shaft was very narrow and had a low ceiling. It wasn’t a very ideal set of circumstances for a fight with multiple enemies. Tess crammed up beside him, feeling her heartbeat accelerate to a rapid thump.

Dante suddenly _demanded_ once more. "Dammit, Tess! The sword! Light it!”

Before she could reply, a crackle came from the side. She bit her lip. Suddenly it was coming from all over. The rock creaked and crackled, moved with low groaning sounds and bits began falling from the ceiling and walls. The figures began moving with odd, erratic movements like the uncontrollable creaking of a defective machine, switching between odd, rapid twitching and slower movements. Their heads particularly wouldn't stop twitching, letting odd rattling noises.

The ones with their torsos free moved strangely, shaking their shoulders in odd angles, as if they were trying to crawl out of the wall. Tess let a shriek when one of the figures' faces crumbled off to reveal the creature underneath: A blackened skull with hollow sockets and only eerie dark blue flames in them, with constantly rattling teeth and their heads twitching from side to side erratically. They didn't have a voice, only that erratic rattling and the creaking of bones, like stone grinding on stone.

The entire passage suddenly became a mass of writhing bodies and flailing arms that stretched and sought to grab anything nearby. A large, gnarly hand wrapped around Dante's sword arm from the side and others grabbed at his waist, but only caught a handful of his coat. Another grasped a handful of Tess' hair from above. She screamed as her head was yanked to the side when the hand grabbing her hair tugged. She lost her footing and swayed to the side, where another hand grabbed her arm. Their grip was inhumanly strong and she saw even Dante straining to free himself.

Struggling to keep these things off herself with fire, but unable to pry her hair loose, she stretched her hand towards Dante, who was being dragged towards the wall where other hands were trying to catch him. She burned the three circles she had before to charm the blade. While the grasping hands were trying to get to her face and gag her she shouted the same spell she had before and her voice rolled through the air carrying the same sense of power. 

_“Rulers of fire! Breathe your wrath into the blade! Sing the death of your enemies in steel and flame!”_

It was much easier the second time around and worked better as well. The thin flames forming the circles surged and abruptly shrank towards their own center under Dante's feet and the red bolt that came from their meeting traveled up his body and into the sword, making it ignite into flames. The marvelous display of flickering fire illuminated the now writhing, living tunnel to its full horror.

Dante grunted furiously as he tried to pry himself free but the harder they both tried to break free, the tighter the grip of the figures became. His blade arm and pinned to a nearby wall and his other arm about to meet the same fate with no less than three hands grasping it firmly.

“Tess!!” he shouted, his tone laced with worry.

“They’re too strong!!” she replied. “I can’t--can’t burn them!”

That seemed to be the last straw for him, because he grunted angrily and his aura suddenly erupted into plain view, a vivid, angry red that swelled and stunned the strange creatures with its force. He bared his teeth and thrashed, little by little tearing away from the grasping hands. Still trying to keep the creatures from gagging her, Tess caused a small burst of flame near the ceiling, resulting in shrill screaming from the figures and a temporary lapse in their tugging.

The half-demon finally yanked himself free from the bound creatures and went about forcing them into submission. He raised his arm and cutting through stretching limbs, he jutted his sword into their abdomens; hacking the entire visible bodies of some cleanly off the walls they hung out from. They screamed and screeched and Dante kicked the head of one of them as he got closer, snarling sometimes in anger at the creatures’ mindless persistence.  

With her head yanked back enough to make her face the ceiling where more of those squirming, trapped demons were, all that Tess could see were flailing arms, skulls with fiery eyes and the erratic twitching and thrashing of restrained body parts. A pair of arms that had been squeezing and twisting her arm painfully suddenly were pried off her as a wave of heat passed. Dante must’ve come close but he was still fighting off the persistent things.

Her hair remained trapped in a tugging hand and she was drawn towards the wall where more flailing arms stretched out for her. She gasped as an arm slid around her waist and pulled hard, backing her into the wall. She winced in disgust, as the wall behind her squirmed--it was actually the torso of one of those things. That one's head was still pulled back and sunk in the wall though, so it had blindly grabbed her about the waist and pulled. She used her free arm to beat off another clingy hand that was tugging at her shirt and tried to pry the arm fastened around her waist by making fire pour down on it.

She heard a muffled scream but the attack had the opposite effect of what she wanted. The arm tensed and only tightened around her, forcefully pushing the wind out of her. She choked and then shouted when the hands pulled her head further back, making her arch back. The flailing limbs of the creatures grabbed both her arms and another arm wrapped around her chest from over her shoulder and pinned her from moving. She thrashed, making fire flare up from anywhere around her that she could, trying to burn the hands and make them release her.

She had her eyes shut most of the time and when she peeled one eyelid open and saw what was coming from above her she let a terrified scream. One of the creatures was lowering its head towards her face, staring down at her with the eerie blue fires it had as eyes and when it opened its skeletal mouth a disgusting long and pointed tongue flicked out towards her, along with a yellowish haze that smelled rotten and vile.

"Dante!!" she screamed. "A cool rescue would be just the thing right about now--" she shouted and the rest of her phrase was lost in a drawn scream that sounded like _'don't touch me'_.

Dante heard her screaming and growled nearly like an animal as he finally cut through the last of the monsters between him and her. The sword burned with fury as it sliced through the wretched things and Dante stomped on cut limbs underfoot on his way to her.

“Get your fucking hands _OFF HER_!” he barked and he felt his teeth swell into fangs.

He swung with all his strength and though it seemed reckless, his aim was flawless. Tess blurted a shriek and shrugged away from the creatures while he came in like a rabid animal, hacking away at the demonic creatures. The face of the one looming over her was cleaved in two with just one hit and the split head spattered down a vile black liquid instead of blood. Some of it dripped on her back as she leaned forward trying to pull herself off and she shuddered with a gasp.

He chipped away at the living effigies clinging to her, taking out a hand grabbing at her arm, then a forearm, then pieces of stone skull as if he was sculpting away at the squirming mass until their hold on her grew loose and she broke free of their grip and pulled away from the wall.

Dante, knowing neither of them could keep up this thing, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along him as they darted down the corridor, with more stone hands reaching for them as they ran, almost dragging her along. She was all too eager to follow. He ran amazingly fast but she could keep up with him and tightened her grip on his hand. Dante would occasionally swing his sword ahead of him and cut down a creature that came too close to seizing them. Hands would swing at them, now snatching at his coat, now barely brushing against her hair and shrieking all the way.

Ahead of them, a faint light interrupted by the constant squirming of bodies on the walls promised an exit from this hellish passage. It was a dim, pale gray and red light and compared to the dark, the heat and rotting air in the passage, it seemed welcoming. Anything was better than this hellhole.

They darted past the squirming, wall-bound demons and Dante realized too late the passage came to a sudden stop without a smooth way down. Their momentum prevented any kind of stop and they were flung out of the edge of the passage and down a short drop of merely several feet. His sword’s fire went out, perhaps because of Tess’ surprise or something else that dissolved the spell. As fast as he could, Dante pulled her against him, turned and managed to land on his feet with her, but then they both toppled backwards. They hit a smooth, almost polished floor of black marble with faint white runs.

The echo of the thud their bodies made on impact was loud, as if they were in a large vaulted room. There was a pale light coming from above them somewhere, but neither had the energy or presence of mind to investigate.

Tess groaned as she sat up, rubbing her arm and shoulder. "Dante? Are you ok?" she asked, looking over.

Dante grunted as he stood up, "Yeah. You alright?" He offered her a hand up.

She took his hand and stood up. "I'm ok. But--" she trailed off, looking up and he mimicked her.

The place they had ended up in was _massive_. Dante at first thought it was like an underground cave of some sort, its expanse easily matching a football field and then some. It was tall as well, its ceiling rising well two building stories above them, but when he had a better look at it, he realized that it was in fact a man-made ceiling with wide, vaulted arches and heavy Gothic, decorative pillars. Large, antique gas lamps hung from the ceiling, shedding pale light that somehow found the strength to illuminate the vast hall. It was divided in two not unlike the stage of a theatre, with about one third of it elevated above the rest of it.

They’d wound up on that elevated part, which had the black marble, worked into a fine floor, while the rest of the hall had rough gravel and limestone tiles all the way to an unseen back wall. The further part of the hall was carved out from the rock and enhanced with masonry, large blocks of stone arranged tightly together and after rising for over three meters, were replaced by bare, natural rock. The opening of the shaft they had fallen out of was gapping open behind and above them, like the burrow of some gigantic mole. The raised platform had more light than the rear and the soft sound of water suggested an underground lake or another water deposit somewhere in the back.

While the two of them were trying to make sense of where they’d found themselves, a voice and the sound of shoes clicking against the marble floor startled them.

“My, my, you two stir up quite the racket. But the important thing is that _you're here_!” the man said, coming into the light from the shadows.

It was the man whose transparent projection they had seen earlier, only without that freaky aura. In real life, he was a tall, pale man, quite normal-looking except for his wide, glistening eyes behind the narrow glasses wedged on his elegantly hooked nose and the strange smirk that only faintly let his teeth show. His face was narrow and his chin slightly pointed. His disheveled hair, once probably slicked back on his, head now hung pitifully around his face, greased and unkempt. He wore a white shirt with a black vest, tightly buttoned but his shirt's necktie was loosened and a black cravat hung miserably, as if he had tugged it violently. His trousers, dark gray, were spattered with some blood and his otherwise polished shoes had droplets on them too.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you two!” he said, his smirk persisting, as he opened his arms halfway in a sort of creepy welcoming gesture. He had a strange, neurotic sort of voice that had a soft tremble. “I'm terribly obliged to you, young man, for helping Tess come over, I was worried she would end up being late for her appointment. I’ve been waiting for so long to see her,” he added, tilting his head to the side slightly, still smirking.

Dante had tensed and assumed a wary stance as soon as the man came into the picture. He held out an arm and gently pushed Tess behind him. He kept his sword in front of him and his eye on the man, feeling that he should on his guard around this bastard. There was something about his grin that made Dante bristle with frustration. There was a demon somewhere beneath that human guise, but that didn’t faze him now. He even found it in him to crack a few defiant, cocky jokes.

“Appointment?” he echoed with a smug smirk. “Oh, you must be the Twig’s girl-stuff doc. Do me a favor doc, no more funny stuff; that ‘lemon fresh’ scent from last time left a bad taste in my mouth.”

He was expecting Tess’ surprised gasp and the smack she laid onto his back angrily, like she couldn’t believe him. He could picture her red face perfectly.

“This is not the time for dirty jokes, you dipshit!” she hissed.

On the other hand, the man just threw his head back and roared in laughter, slapping his thigh. It was loud and hoarse, like a dog's bark. "You're funny, young man," he managed, as soon as he could. "Humour’s a rare thing these days. But I'm afraid that my profession has little to do with the carnal aspect of mankind."

He walked to the side, in a semi-circle towards them as he spoke. Evidently he loved the sound of his own voice. But it was then that the two teenagers noticed he had come over from a side of the raised platform with the polished granite. A side that bizarrely, was somewhat arranged like an office. There was a large wooden desk, an elegant piece of furniture, along with a large cushioned chair. The desk was strewn with random papers and books, most of them shredded. A dark coloured, dirty and stained carpet was spread under it. A tall bookshelf, lined with mouldy ancient books stood behind it and to its side, on the wall, stood a large fireplace, now dark and cold and lined with soot and charred remains. A psychologist's sofa stood to the side, stained with dried blood.

At the same time as the strange doctor, Dante started walking the opposite way of him, in another semi-circle, wanting to keep the man in front of him. Tess matched his movements from behind him. He could almost hear her anxious breath. This was also when they finally were able to discern properly what was happening in the back of the vaulted room. It was hair-raising; the 'office' on the marble-floor end overlooked something like a massive ritual chamber. Demonic runes were inscribed on the middle of the floor and devices that must’ve been used for torture were spread along the walls. Bloodstains were seen drying where light made them visible.

“I am a doctor of the mind,” the man stated coolly. “You're in my asylum, after all. I trust you've seen my patients. Fascinating people, the insane and disturbed, don't you agree? I was hoping you'd bring Tess here on time because I have some business with her. But now that I’ve taken a better look at you--oh yes, I think you'd benefit from my services as well.”

“Slow down _Doc_ , you broke into _our_ digs first,” Dante barked. “You attack us and now you're preaching _us_ about trespassing? Well here’s an ultimatum for ya: Why don’t you take your batshit crazy act and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” He smirked and his eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll _make_ you do it. And I gotta warn you, I’ve had a pretty bad day already.”

He paused for a moment, glance over his shoulder at Tess and then grinned wider. “And let me tell ya, Tess is pretty damn pissed too and you don’t want this bitch blowing up all over ya!”

“Gee, thanks,” Tess replied in a deadpan manner. But she made no effort to rebuke his statement.

The man stopped right in front of something they had not noticed up till then. It was a huge painting that stretched from the floor near the desk right up towards the ceiling, almost sixteen feet tall. It depicted an image of Hell, with human forms writhing and twisting all over it in pain, despair and agony. Their faces were twisted in insane expressions as they suffered under the torture and abuse of grotesque and evil-looking demons that danced about the picture, brandishing flaming torches, blades, hammers and some even cleavers. The demons used the horrid instruments to hack off meat from the living humans. Some were holding up human forms and then tossed them in boiling black waters. The demons looked frightfully like twisted human beings--almost like the Madmen they had fought against time and time before.

Above them all, the darker form of a larger demon towered over the scene. Not much could be discerned from its appearance as it came through the shadows, but it had two eerie white eyes and seemed to be laughing in a twisted joy at all the suffering. The plaque beneath the painting read _'Eternal Torture in Honor of the Mad God'_.

The man shook his head, staring up at the painting with his hands clasped together behind his back. "You're a little too hasty in your judgment, my young, half-fiend friend. Perhaps if you knew better you wouldn't be accusing _me_ of all that.” He looked over his shoulder calmly. “You _do_ remember, I should hope, that a circle of protection was traced around the building? How do you think we ever got through _that_ , hmm?" he said.

“Liar!” Tess fired suddenly. “He didn’t do anything!!”

Dante stared back, biting the inside of his lip slightly. “Hell if I care Doc, you--“

 “We couldn't cross it, sadly,” the doctor interrupted him. “You _could_. You did so and on top of everything...you began to live right in its center. You breached it so often, moving in and out of it that it had to change to accommodate you and as expected, it weakened. In other words my dear boy, you alone, _let_ _us in_. I think that hardly constitutes 'trespassing',” he said with a simper. “Besides, you followed my plan perfectly. When Tess caught glimpse of Cresil going off to the latest chore I had him do for me and she told you, you were all too eager to trot off and pick a fight with that silly fool.”

Dante’s eyes widened. _His plan? What the hell--this freak duped me!?_ he though, gritting his teeth in silent fury. _No…no, no, no…this dipshit’s screwing with me. I didn’t do anything…_

Tess gasped, as if realization had hit her. “Don’t listen to him!” she blurted.

But the man continued undaunted. “I was hoping you'd enjoy playing with him long enough for Aguares to fetch Tess for me. But Aguares took too long and Cresil talked too much. He always did, the fool, even as a gibbering, unintelligent human scavenger that exploited the lives of young boys. He probably took a liking to you. It slipped him that Aguares was busy catching Tess, so you ditched him and ran off. Oh, he got so mad," he laughed, waving his hand in the air in a dejected gesture. “You killed Aguares, which indeed annoyed me somewhat. I was worried I’d have to wait until I was able to fetch Tess myself. But now that doesn’t matter, since you brought her to me. I'm infinitely obliged. You've made things so easy for me. _Ooh_!” he exclaimed, holding up his hand in a gesture of having just remembered.

“And of course--of course, you did me a tremendous favor, getting rid of Chernobog for me. He was getting so obnoxiously rebellious, trying to ruin my planning. He almost killed our precious little Twig,” he added, looking over his shoulder with a sinister smirk, his eyes darkening. “Now, do you understand why you should learn to keep your thoughts in check? You're accusing me of _your own_ , willing actions. You've been of infinite use to me. I dare say I should give you Chernobog's position now that he's out of the way. All I'm interested in is Tess. It’s that simple.”

Everything this creature said drilled into Dante’s head and he was certain he was about to explode with anger. And he probably would have, had it not been for Roy’s warning that came tumbling into his head; Roy told him to not blame himself or allow anybody to heap the blame on him. Dante wanted to scoff. Was there anything that djinn didn’t think of? He pointed his sword straight at the man.

“Let’s get one thing straight: I did _nothing_ for you, screwball. You used the circumstances, and I fell for some of your sick tricks. But I didn’t do shit for you,” he snarled. He stepped closer, keeping the point of the blade pointed at the man's face. “We’ve been at this fucking game for a couple of months now and I’m pretty pissed off. And don’t _fucking dare_ call her 'Twig' again. You’re not laying a finger on her while I’m here and the only thing you’re gonna get is a free ticket back to whatever Underworld shit hole you crawled out of. In pieces.”

He glared at the creature and his eyes narrowed again. “So what’ll it be?”

The Doctor turned around to face them both and his smirk had widened to a twisted, impossibly wide grin, almost a Glasgow grin that showed narrow pointed teeth. His eyes showed to be wholly black, iris, white and all, as he removed his glasses with a calm motion and put them in his shirt’s pocket. When he spoke again his voice was throaty and silky, but dangerously predator-like.

“Aaah...but you don't understand, dear Dante, that you will keep doing things for me because I already am part of you,” he mused. “I am part of everything, every living being with a sentient mind. There is _madness_ in everything. It’s futile to claim the girl, because she was already mine, before you even came to this city. I've waited many long centuries for this and you are hardly going to impede my chance at freedom.”

Dante glared and behind him Tess tensed, her hand coming up to grab at his shoulder as if she wanted to stop him from just rushing the man.

As the doctor spoke, he seemed be breathing deeper, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath he took. “In fact, you are going to be the one who sets me free from the last binds of my prison," he mused, raising one arm and gesturing the hall around them. "Just like you brought to me the key to knowledge of everything...Tess' power.”

Dante knew what it was coming down to now, he could read it in that freak’s movement. Things were about to get bloody.

“Tess, get back. _Now_!” he said. He half-turned and pushed her back.

The girl backpedaled a little but did not retreat, and moved as if to get behind the man to attack from there. Dante saw no reason to hold back any longer and thrust the blade ahead to strike the Doc's face, just as the man walked closer with a confidence that made the boy bristle. The doctor moved his head out of the blade’s way with ease and backstepped as the sword came in again in a wide arc for another hit.

“By the way,” Dante growled. “Who the hell are you, really?”  

As the blade came back for a second pass the man easily grabbed it single-handed and stopped it in its tracks, ignoring the blood that trickled down from his cut hand. He chuckled and leaned in, his face close to Dante's so that the boy was staring into eyes completely black like holes.

“My real name, Dante? No one has ever managed to pronounce it,” he cackled. “I have so many names that it’s a headache to try recite them all. But you can call me _Chax_ , the Mad God, if you like. And you should. You're going to be my newest subject.”

He chuckled gleefully and before Dante could react, his free hand shot up and palmed the teenager’s face. The hand was inhumanly large, the fingers long and crooked and having pointed, blackened tips. Dante blurted a curse and jerked his head back but was unable to free himself from this creature’s grip. His hand flew up and grabbed the doctor’s wrist, trying to force the hand off his face, but to no avail. He flailed his sword hand to free it and try to stab him but a sudden weakness overcame him and Dante felt very definitively ill. His eyes widened and he grunted, finding himself barely able to stand. He felt sick, but not physically; it was something…primal and visceral that he couldn’t quite understand. But it felt wrong in every sense of the way and he couldn’t stand it. He kept trying to force that crazy creature off him but the man was just laughing quietly and pressing him down.

“DANTE!!” Tess screamed.

Dante saw her running towards the man from behind him, through the clasping fingers, and wanted to tell her to run away, but his throat was paralyzed. He saw the tongue of fire conjured and preparing to strike. But she never made it, because Chax abruptly turned and stared at her with wide, pitch black eyes. The girl blurted a shout and was thrust back by some invisible force that knocked her back against that grotesque painting. Before she could recover, she was pinned there by the arms of the demons depicted on it that stretched out from the canvas somehow and gagged her around the mouth, while grabbing her arms and pulling each across over her chest, pinning her like a straight-jacket. She couldn't create fire now without risking burning herself.

" _Ah-ah-ah!!_ Naughty, naughty Tessie! You're not supposed to play with the boys, _yet_ ," he cackled, wagging his finger at her.

He’d let go of Dante’s sword, which hit the ground with a dull chime as Dante found, to his horror, that he had no strength to lift it with. Chax turned right back at him.

“Besides, I haven't finished with your friend here. Yes, you're perfect,” he said smoothly. Dante was choking and was almost petrified from some kind of shock. “Just perfect. A half-demon, who'd know!" he laughed. "Oh the _MADNESS_ I can draw out of you, I can finally get out of this pathetic doctor at last! It’s so exciting I think I'm going to cream myself!!" he roared, laughing.

Dante could barely see Tess struggling against her captors, her screams muffled against the ghastly, blackened hand around her mouth that was choking her. Small sparks of fire were fizzing from her hands, pressed as they were over her sides, scorching herself. Dante was more preoccupied with what was happening to him.

His face twitched and all the boy could do was stare ahead of him blankly, with the horrible feeling that he was being _invaded_. He felt nothing coming, nothing trying to bore into him like a worm in wood or any pain; he just felt something going horribly wrong with him without being able to define it. That uncertainty terrified him, as he’d never encountered something that he couldn’t even describe. It was just an awful sensation that made him feel sick. He felt…polluted.

_What’s happening to me!?_

And then came the tug at the back of his head, that all too familiar feeling of his other side.


	19. Edge of Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things go pear-shaped.

When Chax grabbed Dante's head and the boy grew limp and choked, Tess flailed in her bonds, making muffled sounds and trying to free herself. She wanted to shriek to Dante to move, get away from that freak and whatever it was doing to him. She could see his aura flickering like that of Madmen; a sickly gray began invading the brilliant red and the aura thrashed, looking like it was being suffocated. The boy let a grunt, still unable to properly move; he was still gripping his sword and his arm twitched a little, as if trying to resist. Tess blurted another muffled scream at him while Chax laughed.

“Oh be quiet dear, I’ll be right with you in a moment!” he cackled.

Suddenly Dante seemed to recover from his weakness and he swung his sword harshly, forcing Chax to back off and take his hand away. Dante panted and stood straight, looking like he’d fought a battle in the meantime.

“Nice try, Doc,” he grunted. “You’re still going down…”

The man pulled his arm back, chuckling at him with a mocking look in the black holes he had for eyes. “Am I now, ignorant child? How long do you think you can keep this arrogance on before you realize what you really are?” he chuckled. “I wonder what kind of idiot incubus went and knocked up some half-wit human cow to produce this interesting mix that you are. But you're still perfect for my design.”

Dante seemed to lose his cool completely in an almost uncharacteristic way at that jeer. He charged at him, pulling his blade back to ready it for a swing.

“SHUT UP!” he barked and Tess was startled at the sheer anger behind it. It sounded so…alien, coming from him.

He lunged forward with a powerful, one-handed swing but used that momentum to come back around, place his second hand on the handle of his sword, spin again and slice diagonally at his enemy a second time. “You want crazy, I'll _show you_ crazy, shitface!”

Chax blurted a cruel, brief laugh and practically allowed the blade's first strike to hit under his chin, almost slicing his head in two and knocking him up and back and then the second hit to knock him backwards onto his back, almost torn in two, into a puddle of blood. The broken body twitched a little in a brief death throe and then it was still.

But the voice persisted, this time sounding like several personalities speaking all at once. “Very good Dante. You can stop resisting now. Give in; otherwise your own soul is going to _break_ if you don’t _.”_

Tess let another muffled shout, watching Dante's aura flicker again and worse this time, between red and that sickly gray and black, twisting and writhing about as if it was in excruciating pain. She frowned in disgust; squirming in her binds and gag when the broken body on the floor seemed to twitch erratically, then suddenly rise up on its own, straight up to its feet. The human form, the skin, the clothes and everything seemed to burn and fall off like ash. The body let a shaky, deep-throat shout as it warped and hunched over, then literally exploded as a different form, much larger than the human had been, with the hair-rising sound of snapping bones and tearing flesh.

The true demon hiding in the human body stood straight. It was taller than any human, almost towering four meters and proportionally robust. Its skin looked smooth, a dark gray color, almost black, like soot, except for his left arm, shoulder and left part of the chest, over the breast and part of the neck; that was covered in a dark red and brown scaly skin, like the scab remaining over a healing wound. Small gray spikes of bone grew out of the blackened area, stopping just below the shoulder. He was covered in a strange tattoo of many blood-red snakes crisscrossing his skin. It did not extend on the left, scabbed side.

The body had the overall structure of a human, but the resemblance ended there. Its arms were disproportionally longer and its hands were large, wide and the fingers long and sharp with razor claws. He was decked in filthy gray trousers, with two additional pieces of black cloth along the sides, like the flaps of a long coat. He wore brass greaves over his legs and his feet were reptilian with three toes tipped with claws. His chest and arms was bare, except for a pair of larger, curved spikes growing out of the shoulders and a pair of heavy bracers stretching from the wrist to almost the elbow. Interestingly, over each arm, coiled around the wrist and seeming growing out of them, was a thick black chain, both their ends broken off from wherever he had been chained.

Its head, deceptively human-like, had short, powder white hair, growing in haphazard strands and hung along the sides of his face. A single, jagged horn grew from high on the forehead and its thick base deformed the top of the skull a little, while two more horns grew out of his temples, curving back and then turning upwards. He wore a filthy cloth tied around his head, covering his eyes and streaks of blood over his cheeks hinted that they had been gouged out. His mouth was thin with two small fangs showed from under his lips, which formed a highly pleased and deranged smile.

He stood straight and stretched lavishly, flexing arms and neck. “ _Mmmm_ , it feels good to be free at last. I was getting sick of being stuck in the good doctor's body for so long. Must be three decades since I made that stupid bargain with the old goat. Took me ages to take over completely, hahah!”

As he stretched, two long, identical reptilian tails stretched out from the base of his spine, long and thick like twin black snakes, with three sharp bone spines sticking out the skin of each. Both tails began to sway hypnotically behind him.

"How I've missed the damn _ELBOW SPACE_!" he roared, stretching his arms to the sides.

Two leathery wings opened from his back at the same time, with heavy bone spines covering the limbs supporting the skin. The top of each wing was adorned by a large deformed claw that split in two opposite curved sides as it grew out of the joint. The scales grew out of its base toward the ends of the wing. The leathery surface of the wings was torn and shredded in places and the wings had odd bronze wings pierced into the stretched hide and some of the limbs, along with some additional small dangling jewelry, and more chains hanging off both wings. They had a darker color than the body, a hideous dark red of drying blood. They were unusually flimsy for a demon of that size, the flaps not even stretching all the way to his sides and stretched out torn. If they had once been used for flight, they were now useless for that, clipped and damaged.

Tess thought she could never take her eyes off that demon but something in the corner of her vision made her look down at the lower part of the hall and she shuddered in horror. Throngs of Madmen were swarming in from the darkness in the edges of the room, screaming, shouting and cackling mad laughs of insanity. They gathered below and looked up on to the upper level where Chax was, like a grim, twisted congregation of worshipers coming to pay their respects to their god.

Chax looked down at them gleefully. " _Yesssss_...now we're almost ready," the demon hissed. "Ready for the last great feast," he added, turning his head to face the young demon hunter, who had been dumbfounded as he watched the demon lord show himself in all his twisted glory.

Dante looked dizzy and disoriented since Chax had grabbed his face and _done_ something to him. He had stopped his assault, leaning on his sword, stuck into the ground. He was panting deeply and glowering at Chax from beneath his eyebrows. He palmed his face and swayed a little, looking like he was feeling vertigo.

“Don’t fight it, Dante. The _miasma_ of the Underworld is natural for us demons, but if you’ve never experienced it before…it can break your soul,” Chax chuckled malevolently, watching him with interest.

Dante suddenly let a choked bellow and dropped to the ground on his knees, allowing his sword to fall from his hand and clatter on the floor. He grabbed at his head and squeezed his hands on it. Tess tried to call out to him, to warn him but it was in vain. His aura was thrashing and swelling in size, as if his inner demon was trying to claw its way out of him and Dante was resisting fiercely. He blurted an agonized shout and jerked his head back, grunting as if something in him was filling with rage and need for violence.

Still gripping his head, he shivered as if someone had poured frozen water over him and he groaned loudly. His aura showed something foreign growing stronger within him and taking over. He hunched over, panting loudly and growling softly. Tess shouted at him, thrashing harder trying to release herself. Writhing on the ground as he was, trying to fight off the effect of the corruption, he didn’t notice his blade. Tess saw the subtle aura of the sword dim and flicker to a feeble shine; as if the Rebellion sensed that its wielder was changing and no longer in contact with his own sword.

As Tess watched on, Dante seemed to panic and lose control. He couldn’t contain his demonic side anymore. He threw his head back again and let a savage scream, releasing all the pressure he felt on him.

His aura exploded out in a wide, writhing flare that became increasingly speckled with gray and black. Tess startled as his clothes seemed to meld with his skin, turning to a dark, almost black sheen, its texture becoming rough like sandpaper. His eyes widened as his pupils grew larger and the red hues turned into poison green. His hair seemed to warp into two horns that curved back and up from the sides of his head. His teeth elongated into sharp fangs, pointy as fine needles and his lips curled back in a savage snarl. His gun holster melded with his back like his coat had and his guns clattered on the granite floor. His feet were warped into 3-toed claws and his hands grew disfigured as the joints swelled, his nails growing into curved, razor-sharp claws.

Tess watched on in horror, as a sharp roar, throaty and resonating, drowned his shouts of pain, anger and refusal. It pierced through her ears and she cringed as Dante forced himself on all fours as he tried to fight against this sudden frenzy that was taking over him. His demonic side seemed to be going berserk and he couldn’t control it. His form kept shifting back and forth between demonic and human. She knew this wasn’t him; this _monster_ he was turning into was not his own demonic powers, not the boy she’d come here with in hope of stemming the tide of this evil. This was a result of whatever Chax had done to him; Tess could almost see it festering in him like poison.

The amulet he wore around his neck glowed weakly and Tess saw it vanish under the layers of the rough, blackened skin. Dante crawled towards the nearest wall and stood, clawing at the wall slowly for support. He shook his head and growled hoarsely, sounding like he was trying to stop himself from doing anything, his whole frame shuddering in pain. Tess finally turned away, unable to watch and looked at the demon that started all this.

Chax was calmly enjoying the agony of the halfling as he gave in to the madness that was overtaking him, induced by whatever the demon had done to Dante. The boy fought back, but the corruption was tearing through his sanity and making him degenerate into a savage, beast-like state. Tess guessed that Chax was controlling him somehow through this madness and her heart sank with worry. It was now painfully obvious to her that Chax was _feeding_ on the madness overtaking the boy, just like he’d been feeding on the Madmen’s crimes all this time to strengthen himself. She realized that the original closing of the asylum must have meant that the demon was deprived of his usual victims, the inmates, and forcing him to turn to the Madmen spreading madness like a virulence.

Dante suddenly roared out loudly, overtaken by bloodlust and a lack fear and control. He moved erratically as if he was finding it hard to move…or trying to stop himself. The demonic teenager pulled himself away from the wall with a snarl, stumbling towards the writhing mass of Madmen below. He leaped into the horde and started to tear through them even as they tried to fight back. Blood sprayed in every direction from his attacks, the floor, walls and some even gushed up to the ceiling. He needed no weapons; he swung his arms, tearing through flesh and breaking bones, ripping limbs off the possessed men and tearing them apart with his bare hands. Effortlessly, he even crushed entire skulls in one hand.

He threw his head back during a brief pause in his bloodbath to let a sharp howl. Madmen swarmed around him in a similar frenzy, yelling, screaming and laughing horrendously as they grabbed and tore at him. Dante was not daunted, but as the transformed humans attacked, he would thrash them, now ripping off a head with bone-shattering cracks, then tearing through the chest of another freak with a disgusting sound. There were so many of them, it looked like he’d never get through them, snarling and laughing in a strange, throaty rasp.

He stood merely at a man’s height and size, but his sheer strength was beyond human, his speed unmatched. He shrugged off multiple attacks. Ripping through the opposition, he only seemed to be barely conscious of what he was doing, rarely ever pausing and screaming in an agonized way that was painfully human before the demonic roars drowned out the agony of the human. During those times he would cease his attacking, sometimes becoming swarmed under the Madmen assaulting him and would only flail, throwing them back largely unhurt as if he were trying to resist the mania, but then his hand would pierce through a torso like butter and blood would cover him from head to toe.

All the while, Chax looked on, like the owner of a fighting dog whose pet was now thrown into the arena and was savaging its opponent and making him profit. The demon lord smiled widely, showing his fangs under the curled lips.

" _Yesss_...that's it, you arrogant little boy. Feel the insanity. Relinquish control. Who the hell needs sanity anyway?" he chuckled. “ _Oooh_ , hahahaha, that tickles. Oh I haven’t felt this good in such a long time! I can almost hear your mind cracking under the pressure! Come on, stop fighting back and enjoy it. I know you’re having fun over there!!” he laughed in ecstatic delight.

Still trapped against the wall, Tess wouldn’t watch any longer. She had been flailing and bucking in the living straightjacket of the arms protruding from the hideous painting until her body ached. Her head was throbbing. What she was seeing unfold before her and all that demonic aura swarming around her was making her feel ill. She hung her head in disgust, swallowing down a bit of bile that welled up in her throat and took a deep breath through the nose trying to keep herself from getting tunnel vision that might lead her to faint. She _needed_ a clear head now. So when the vision invaded her sight, making her throw her head back, she blurted a choked, muffled scream.

It was different than before. The last few visions she had were painful but this one was almost soothing in a bizarre way. It came through like images under the snow of a television screen finally emerging. She saw the very room they were in, albeit it looking different, less polished, more like a natural cavern. There was a seal traced on the floor, which she was certain was in fact invisible. It was a wiccan seal, carved into the ground, a large circle with smaller co-centric ones or touching upon each other’s circumference, with runes spelling charms of sealing, circling a central sign of an upright pentagram. Commands and binding rites were written all over the seal. As Tess watched in her vision, suddenly a large crack happened upon the seal, breaching it violently.

She returned to reality with a groan of pain as her head throbbed harder. She realized what that meant. The ground on which this asylum had been built must have been a place of power where wiccans had sealed this demon. Over time the wiccans bound to protect this place must have all perished and there was no one left to protect the seal. The prison was built over it, marking the beginning of the seal’s breaching, and the subsequent asylum aided it on even further.

It was the pain, the terror, the despair and the madness of those who lived and died over this seal that fed Chax, a demon of madness, and made him strong enough to breach his seal and little by little release himself. He must’ve used the human doctor as a vessel to help him commit the crimes that would’ve fed the demon, and little by little he used the human to bypass the seal, replacing the human in the shell until he was strong enough to break out.

Now, however, she had a more immediate problem that made her squirm and attempting to free herself from the hands restraining her. She had to watch Dante suffer, thrashing as he was among the Madmen, laughing as insanely as them and butchering them like a fox among fowl. She knew he must have been suffering beneath that madness, fighting against his own nature and eventually losing. His aura kept thrashing like an animal in a cage, constantly changing from red to that sickening gray, like static. It was painful to just watch and his massacre, even if he was killing demons, was sickening to watch. He never behaved like that normally. She could tell he was trying to resist, to fight it but there was nothing stopping the corruption.

Tess kept fighting against her binds, making weak bursts of fire erupt around her, but the sheer force of the demonic essence in the air and the way her arms were restrained only made her scorch herself. She got so angry and desperate, seeing Dante leap into the crowd of Madmen anew and continuing his massacre of the beastly men. It hurt her to watch him, because she knew that wasn’t like him. Chax kept watching the spectacle of onslaught with ever-increasing delight. He didn’t seem to care so much about the halfling or his power; the demon seemed to be more interested in the violence and madness caused by the carnage.

Dante ripped through another corrupted human and Tess looked away as blood and body parts spread everywhere. The madness Chax had induced in her friend seemed to have taken hold of his demonic side and blown it out of proportion. It turned him into a monster, tapping into powers that were still dormant. But he still fought back; he arched his back and roared, but the voice that came from his throat was painfully human.

 _Whatever Chax did to him…that_ thing _isn’t him,_ Tess thought. _It’s just so…so alien on him. I’ve_ seen _what his demon looks like…and it’s nothing like this monster! I have to do something…I have to do something…_

Just as she contemplated this, Chax turned around to her and paced up to her casually, like a hospitable lord. “Amusing, isn't it, Tess? He gives into the instincts of his nature a little too eagerly, eh?" he asked her, with a cool smile. “I bet he’s that outrageous in his every-day dealings. You’d know that well, wouldn’t you?”

She just breathed out harshly through her nose, glaring at him terribly, out of her mind with fury. She let a muffled hiss.

He just laughed at her reaction. "Now, now, little wasp, don't look so vexed. He is just a bonus in my plans. _You're_ the guest of honor here" he said, gesturing at her. “Now, let’s get to business, you and I.”

The ghastly arm gagging her finally pulled away and despite the terror of being face to face with what was obviously a powerful demon, she glared and snarled at him. “What did you do to him!?”

He sounded surprised and if he were not blindfolded, he might've bowed his eyebrows up. “Who, Dante? Oh, I hardly needed to do anything. I just gave him a little _encouragement_ to tap into his powers. He's got a lot of potential, I can tell you that. I don't know why and I don't care. He's just having his fun and making me stronger. I’m interested in you.”

He actually knelt down to bring his face closer to hers and with a sharp claw under her chin, which she tried to pull away from him, raised her face so that she stared directly at his face.

He was smirking. "Now you get an idea why you're rather necessary to me.”

He negligently pulled the blindfold off his head and Tess shrugged, letting a disgusted squeal and looked away.

Chax's eyes were gouged out and the bloody sockets were two black holes over his diabolic smirk. It was horrifying.

"Ugly isn't it? I know. It’s ironic that I can still see, but only that much; a little less than humans, actually. Not even colors,” the demon said coldly. “Your kind had good reason to pluck my eyes. One glance was all I needed to drive anything with a mind insane--any kind of madness I wanted. Even other demons hated me, it was glorious!” he cackled.

Then his voice grew hard. “And then your kind ruined my fun. It was one damn coven… one blind wiccan was enough to resist me enough to bring me down. They tore my eyes out with their filthy wiccan tricks before they sealed me away. I spent centuries in pain, almost completely blind! And now… here are you, with eyes that can see…potentially everything.”

His smile became wider and his chuckle was getting crazier. “Oh, your eyes are _SUCH_ charming things to behold," he said, apparently staring at her face more closely.

The arms restraining her came loose and she was face to face with Chax, as he towered over her. She shrugged away from him, pressing her back on the wall, revolted.

“Demons can care less about beauty, but you...you're actually quite _promising_. Mummy dearest was a real babe from what I gather; it’s no surprise that daddy didn't want to leave. I expect you'd take after her!” he cackled. “I mean, you've already upset _some_ hearts, haven't you?”

He turned over at Dante, who was still wreaking havoc, for a moment and she glared and huffed angrily.

Then his tone changed suddenly, growing more serious. “You have a rare gift, the key to ultimate knowledge! Of course, I’d like to have that for myself. It might not give me back my old power to drive everything crazy just by looking at it, but to see the future and the past…if that doesn’t elevate me to god, I don’t know _what_ will!”

He chuckled and Tess thought he was about as insane as the Madmen he produced. But what he was saying also made her blood run cold. She knew exactly what he wanted. Although she was free from the restraints, she didn’t dare attack, just stared back in silence, her mind racing for a solution. He had cornered her against the wall and was leering down at her, likely reveling in the knowledge that the sheer demonic aura that was filling the space was choking her and her powers, rendering her nearly defenseless.

"Your eyes, dear," he purred then suddenly brought his hand to her face. "Give them to me!"

Her eyes widened and she tore herself off the wall, setting the painting behind her back on fire and it spread, eating away at the canvas rapidly until it was all gone while she threw herself to the side to avoid him.

"No!" she shouted, pulling away, disgusted. “I know what you want, you want me to make some deal with you! Never! I'll _NEVER_ turn myself into a pet of Hell!” She wondered where she found the courage to shout like that when her heart was about to stop from fright.

Chax’s hand slammed on the wall as she dodged him and he snarled in anger, his tails whipping angrily. The way he was crouched, one hand on the wall, the motion of the tails and the bared teeth, made him look like a grotesque lizard that had jumped out of a nightmare.

"You stupid girl," he hissed. "So you want to die in pain, when I could spare you the suffering? I could take your eyes and leave you alive, if I go about it right… perhaps long enough for your berserk demon friend to tear you to pieces.” Then he chuckled lewdly. “Although, a strapping young man like him, I'm sure he has _other_ ideas in mind."

Tess winced as she kept backing away. The thought that Dante was hopelessly gone to this infectious madness was terrifying, enough to make her feel she might burst into tears. She refused to believe that he was lost for good, but she was too scared and angry to think of a solution for that right now. Principally, she had to deal with the half-blind demon looming over her.

Chax advanced towards her again, snarling like an animal. "GIVE ME YOUR EYES!" he demanded.

Before Tess could even try to deflect him with fire, the large demon suddenly stumbled forward with a grunt as Dante leaped onto his back like a rabid dog, clinging to the demon’s back, snarling. Chax roared and thrashed, reeling back from Tess and swinging Dante off; the berserker youngster skidded back, on his feet with a growl. Tess gaped at the sight and glanced at the lower level. She could see the majority of the Madmen had been decimated and the floor of the hall was covered in blood and entrails. The few remaining Madmen actually looked unwilling to continue.

Dante had cut them down and apparently lost interest in the fodder demons and was now looking for a different target. And Chax had presented a bigger challenge. He let a snarl and bound back towards the large demon, screeching. Dante's voice faded in and out, in pain, before a sharp, deep roar overcame it again. He trudged at Chax and lunged at him with a dash. Tess pulled away to avoid him completely as Chax spontaneously did the same to avoid being hit in the side, and Dante’s fist hit the wall, driving a large crack upwards. He turned around immediately and charged Chax again.

Bizarrely, he got between Tess and Chax as if he wanted to defend her but Tess could tell that he was just trying to get to the larger demon mindlessly and that position just happened to be between them. She was actually afraid of what he might do if he picked up and turned on her. He was barely in control of himself and he was going for Chax with a recklessness that had nothing to do with his usual attitude. But then and now he’d stop, growl and look like he was choking and even fell to his knees once before getting back up.

Tess gulped as Dante charged the larger demon suddenly swinging his arms wildly and actually catching Chax in the arm slightly, forcing the bigger demon back before Chax swung his own arm and slammed the smaller demon away from him with a backhand that made Tess squeak in fright because she noted that his aura switched from black to red again before it dissipated into black again; it was trembling and seemed weak.

Dante hit the ground hard and then Chax kicked him hard enough to make the berserker tumble into the wall with a thud. Chax gazed down at the tortured halfing from his empty sockets as he walked over.

He huffed impatiently. “You pathetic, little fool. You want to get in my way _now_?” he snarled, his voice growing into a growl.

Dante sprang up and replied with a sharp snarl. It only made Chax break into a sarcastic chuckle and glanced at Tess. “ _Really?_ Well, look who’s getting into rutting season. Too bad, brat, you’ve outlived your purpose!”

He pulled back one of his massive arms and slammed it into Dante from the side, sweeping him up almost and slamming him into the wall, holding him up from the throat. The half-blind demon glared down at him with a twisted smirk.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” Tess shouted.

Without quite thinking about it, she made to run towards Chax while raising her arm to conjure a lash of fire to attack the demon with.

“ _SILENCE_!” Chax barked at her, turning his gaze in her direction.

He only needed to flick one of his tails at her, putting out the flame and whipping her across the abdomen, sending her flying. She hit the ground on her back and tumbled backwards still from the momentum. She lay there, groaning in pain and clutching her sides, but more importantly, unable to move for a moment.

“Silly, pathetic witch! You're all the same! Venturing into places you shouldn't!” Chax growled at her. “And you--you stupid boy,” he chuckled, glaring down at Dante. "I can't decide if you're brave or just an idiot. You're not made for heroic delusions. Half-demon, mad or sane--it makes no difference! You still are _A PATHETIC HUMAN BEING_!" he roared.

He raised his other arm with a blast of some kind of energy forming on it, to crush the berserking boy's head with.

Suddenly the earth trembled and bits of debris fell from the ceiling of the large hall. Everyone, Chax included, stopped dead. The demon lord looked up, puzzled, then over across the large cavern.

“What was that?” he quipped, sounding surprised.

Tess looked up just as another tremor occurred, stronger this time and it felt like its source was closer. Before the large demon could react, the wall that Chax was pressing Dante onto 'exploded', sending pieces of stone flying in every direction, accompanied by a roar rather like that of a lion's.

“GET OFF THE BOY, SCUM!”

A large form on four legs barreled in, ramming its two front feet into Chax’s chest and pushing him off Dante, who tumbled onto the floor. It looked like a gigantic lion with some reptilian characteristics. It was larger than Chax, standing well over 5 meters tall and nearly twice as long, plus the tail. Its large, heavy-set head was clearly feline, with a single, burning amber eye. The right eye was gouged out, closed in a grimace, with a fresh scar. Its massive fangs were bared, showing sharp canines, as long as a man's arm and beside a thick and rich black mane, its head was adorned with four pairs of horns. One pair was placed right above its eyes and curving up and ahead, the other three growing from behind its relatively small ears, curving back gradually and the lowermost pair curved down and around, to come up pointing ahead on either side of its face.

Two smaller horns grew from its shoulder blades, which led to strong front legs with wide paws donning razor sharp claws. From the paws to the elbows, dark brown scale plates overlapped along the front, mixing with the sand-colored fur of the leg, making them look like dragon limbs rather than feline. His hind legs were similarly covered in scales up to the thigh where they dispersed into fur. Its tail was long and thick like a lizard's and the fur on the bottom side gave way to lighter sand colored scales up till the tip, with a tuft of hair, like a true lion's. On its hindquarters, along the spine and a few ways into the tail, spikes of bone protruded through the skin, marking the spine under it.

Tess shouted in surprise and ducked to avoid being hit by some of that debris. She stared as the beast rammed Chax, pushing him off Dante. She looked up towards where he had last been, hoping he was all right. Dante had pulled himself up to a crouch and shook his head vigorously from the daze. Without an immediate target the corruption was overpowering yet again and he fell to the ground, writhing as he apparently tried to regain control of himself again and failed. The violent thrashing of his aura and the growls coming from him, switching between human and demon were evident signs that there was a very complicated struggle going on within him.

Tess hesitated to get near Dante while he was thrashing. It tore her up to see him and she desperately wanted to do something. She stared over at the large beast and the demon; they had tumbled into the wide hall and were now fighting with vicious snarls and growls and the sound of bodies hitting against each other. The beast wrinkled its snout, baring huge fangs and roared right in Chax's face, pinning him down. She glanced between Dante and the beast and suddenly ran over to the edge of the raised ground.

 _Now I know things are really…really bad…_ she thought. _If Abraxas has decided he’s going to show his real face…_

"Roy!" she shouted. "Roy! Roy-- _ABRAXAS_!" she shouted again, this time the creature's real name.

Roy--because that who it was--heard her and managing to overcome Chax for only very briefly and, pinning the demon down under his weight, turned his huge head to her. "Tess! This is getting out of control! Where is Dante!?" he snarled at her with a hoarse voice.

Tess stood with her back facing a wall, blissful to the fact she was attracting attention to herself from the few Madmen still around, not to mention Dante, who was still hurting himself in his thrashing.

“He's gone crazy!!” she shouted, pointing at him. “That freak did something to him! Look at him! He's--he's been _infected_ with something!”

Abraxas glanced at the other side of the hall at them, to see Dante continuing his painful thrashing. The djinn snarled at the sight. Then suddenly Chax struck him with his clawed hands and the two beasts scuffled briefly, roaring and growling at each other while they fought. Abraxas struck Chax’s head with his forepaw, slashing across the side of the demon’s face. Chax howled in pain and thrashed on the floor, about to throw Abraxas off him.

“Tess! You've got to stop him! He's going to go mad for good! And if you can't stop him, you must _kill_ him! Or he's going to butcher us all!” he snarled, before Chax threw the djinn off him.

Abraxas fell on his side but rolled up immediately in a hunched, ready stance. Most of the Madmen had backed away, wailing in fear, so the two creatures had more space to fight. Chax leaped up and roared at Abraxas, who answered in kind.

“MEDDLESOME DESERT SLIME! YOU DIE NOW!” the demon roared.

He charged into Abraxas' face, who roared in pain and the two beasts began a rough body-to-body battle, tumbling around and shaking the hall with their weight and force. Neither seemed to be winning; Chax was powerful and Abraxas seemed to be evenly matched, but his previous injuries appeared to have weakened him and made him very wary. Chax threw the djinn down and towered over him, about to stab him through his exposed gut with his hand.  Abraxas jerked his head and grabbed Chax's arm in his massive jaws, while hectically kicking away with his hind legs, snarling and growling as the claws of his hind paws ripped air.

Meanwhile, some of the Madmen had moved over towards Tess, attracted by her earlier shouts and were clambering over the ledge to reach her. And she had to worry about Dante too. Said berserker had promptly stopped writhing on the ground and suddenly sprang up again with a snarl. A Madman stumbled his way and Dante lunged at it, swinging his arm and tearing the head cleanly off, sending blood to gush onto the nearby wall. He trudged towards other Madmen, wanting to butcher them too.

Tess was busy fending them off with fire when she noticed that Dante had gotten very close and there was a real danger that he’d turn against her. And surely enough he looked at her, growling, as if he was hesitating, but then a Madman struck him from behind with a hatchet and the raging demon howled in pain before whirling around. He grabbed the Madman and threw him against the wall with a disgusting cracking and squelching sound. He assaulted the rest of the Madmen with a chain of incredibly fast attacks, slaughtering them before they could swarm him. He was littered in blood from head to toe, with scattered body parts and corpses strewn about him.

Tess had been taking out the Madmen surrounding her with fire and a few kicks. In the end it was exhaustion that made her slip up just once, enough to allow a Madman a lucky backhand strike that knocked the girl on her back and she rolled away immediately after to avoid being skewered by the rusty and broken pipe he was holding. Before the Madman could strike again, Tess yelped in surprise, seeing Dante’s hand stab clean through the demon’s chest with a squish. He pulled back and threw the Madman against the wall with a loud cracking sound before he turned and stared at Tess for a brief moment, breathing hoarsely with soft growls.

Tess stared back for a moment before he started to stumble towards her with a wide, fang-filled grin that made her blood run cold. He was clearly…interested. While scrambling away and trying to get up she felt something pressing up against her skin from in her torn arm warmer. She jerked her arm and the small knife she’d stowed away in her sleeve before they left the building fell out of the arm warmer. She got to her feet and sent a lash of fire right in Dante’s face, driving him back with the sound of sizzling hide and a howl of pain.

She span around to keep him in sight. The black hilt of the knife was barely big enough to fit in her palm but the blade glistened in the pale light.

 _An athame… I can use this… right?_ She thought, panicking a little. _There must be something I can do…_

Just like that, she remembered her lessons from Magda, several years ago. Tess had mistakenly confused the use of ritual knives and when Magda had scolded her, Tess had wanted to cry.

“ _You must remember, Tess…the athame is not a knife that cuts. It cannot kill the innocent and it cannot be used for casual cutting. It has far too great powers. Remember: The athame is the knife that does not cut. It is used in rituals for other, very important purposes. Everything will depend on the athame and the purpose of the wielder.”_

And just like that, everything was clear to her. She smirked a little. “I hated it when you’re right Grams…but thank you." she mumbled.

She turned around to find Dante standing over her, his arm pulled back and ready to strike her. She hardly realized how she reacted, ducking and rolling backwards, swinging her legs over her head to dodge him. His arm struck the floor, leaving a dent where she had stood and almost stumbling along from his haste; he swung his other arm to grab her, but she jumped back nimbly. He pursued her along with thudding footsteps and she retreated away from him, twisting, turning and cart-wheeling or back flipping out of his reach, keeping herself unpredictable, while still holding the athame in her hands tightly by the black, bogwood hilt.

Finally she put enough distance between them and she panted, stopping at a crouch as he paused, looking winded. He growled at her and she just stood up again, glaring at him.

“Not in the mood for your antics right now, Dante,” she muttered, wary of him.

She had to concentrate or her idea would fail. She went as far as to shut her eyes and allow her senses to warn her if he came close.

 _Cleansing rites… this is all I can do right now. I don’t know if an athame can be used directly like this but…it might work,_ she thought.

She got up and held the knife close to her chest, without moving. She knew he was coming her way. She turned her back at him to provoke him, while her heart was racing from fear.

 _If I screw this up, it could cost me…everything. Life, maybe even my soul. I’ve never tried to cleanse demons. I don’t even know if it’ll work on Dante. I’ve cast rites on a demonic weapon…but this is different… His life is on the line,_ she thought and gulped. _Dante, if this kills us, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. I don't want you to go mad._

She knew he was right behind her now; she could smell the blood on him and heard the low growls coming from his throat. He held up his arms to grab her, when she suddenly turned rapidly and she shouted out a spell, her voice reverberating with a rapidly growing power.

“ _Steel of ice, heart of stone; I make a pledge the tide to turn. If I be wrong, strike me down! If I be right, Goddess bright, pierce the foul and wash the shame!”_

Her arm swung as she let a shout of indignation and determination--

_I'm so sorry, Dante._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you're reading this as part of a completed work, I have something very important to tell you! 1. THANK YOU! 2. This is your mandatory rest stop. Drink some water, get up, stretch, then go to sleep and come back in the morning. It'll still be here ;)


	20. Purging Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where I get too cheesy for my own good.

Tess stabbed hard into Dante’s chest, digging the silver blade in as hard as she could through the tough demonic hide, just as he was about to lock his hands around her neck. She pushed the blade hard, almost to the hilt, gritting her teeth. Dante stopped dead in his tracks with a hoarse, choked sound. Tess winced; the blade was almost burning, she could feel it hot through the bogwood hilt. He snarled, tensed and shuddered, while his skin began to crack and seem like it was trying to detach itself from the muscles.

Dante blurted an ear-piercing and painful screech like nails on a chalkboard. He stumbled and seemed to fall forward, grabbing on to Tess and catching her in a suffocating embrace, as if he wanted to crush her and at the same time hold himself upright. The hilt dug into her side and the air was almost forcefully crushed from her lungs and she yelped in pain. He gasped, as if surprised then screeched again, his very form contorting and convulsing. He seemed to be fighting the madness again. She could see his aura suddenly bursting up and to the sides, flickering violently.

She felt almost like being crushed, but didn’t relent. She dug the blade deeper into his chest, making him scream again. He snarled in her face, his poison-green eyes glaring at her hungrily and angry that he was unable to move. He was suffocating her.

"Listen to me!" she managed, while he almost crushed her ribcage. "I know it hurts! But you have to stop!” she said, struggling to keep him from forcing her to the ground. “Fight it, you idiot! You're stronger than this! This wouldn’t work if I thought otherwise. I can only do this much, give you a way to get this…this _thing_ out of you. And that's your job,” she said and paused, trying to take a breath.

They wrestled around like that for a moment, with Tess feeling like was getting weaker while that flimsy blade was in his chest.  “I want my friend--I want YOU back. I need you…to help me do this, remember? Come on, dammit!!” she said with a choke as he growled at her.

She looked up at the contorted face while her eyes were watering from the pressure and the anxiety of seeing him like that.

“Come on, you’re the cockiest dipshit I know, are you gonna let yourself be controlled? I won’t let you do that. You’re going to fight. Stop acting like an idiot!” she panted as she felt the intense demonic aura about to suffocate her. “You _ARE_ stronger than this. When I take out this knife, you're going to fight it and push it out. You are what you are. _Accept it_ , because it’s you and--and every bit of you, every face you've shown me, is very important to me. I want…I want you back. I _need_ you back."

Although she was getting dizzy from the crushing grip he had on her, she didn't do anything to stop him.

"Whatever happens, what I see in you won't change. I'll forgive you."

She shoved against him and pulled out the blade to find it covered in blood and a vile-looking, black substance that was stringy and seemed to resist coming out of him. The wound let a squishy sound, didn’t heal and suddenly a little bit of blood spurted out, followed by a stronger gush of the same black substance. Dante threw his head back with a malevolent screech as she pulled the knife out.

He let go of her, shoving her off him with a violent swipe of his hand and thrashed about, howling in pain. That vile-looking substance kept spurting out of the gash on his chest and his dark, rough hide continued cracking and crumbling like an exoskeleton. At the same time, he started to switch between his human and demon form again. His ear-piercing screech slowly turned into a human scream of pain and suffering as he thrashed.

Tess kept holding the athame, with the black liquid trickling off it as if something had wiped it off. She watched him thrash and frowned, worried she might have done something wrong. He jerked his head from side to side violently and bringing a hand to his face he tore away at it, peeling off chunks of the dark-colored skin. The rest of the dark skin cracked away like dust. He staggered around, almost drunkenly and Tess went straight up to him, not wanting to leave him on his own.

His chest convulsed as the last of the vile black substance spurted out, along with some blood. He got hold of her arm, his hand almost normal again. Tess groaned a bit as she helped him stay upright, passing his arm over her shoulders. The whole ordeal lasted for just over a minute and he was clearly exhausted when it was over. He stood on his own two, very shaky feet.

Dante's eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, trying to suppress the fading pain. He slowly opened his eyes again, revealing the normal, pale blue hues and panted, just staring at her.

“Hey Twig,” he said weakly with a stiff smile. “Thanks for the help.”

With his vision focusing, he saw her looking right at him, crying and laughing at the same time. She let the knife fall between them and hugged him tight, pressing her face in his shoulder, relieved that he was himself again, managing a low giggle, choked in a sob.

“You…you idiot. You scared me,” she stammered. “I knew you could do it. You had to scare a decade off me first. I thought you were a goner,” she went on. “I'm so glad you're back. I was scared it wouldn’t work.”

Coming out of that ordeal felt like being pulled out of the lake all over again, but it was far worse and a far greater relief. He shivered to find that he had very little recollection of what he’d been doing but by the smell of him, he knew he’d been tearing people apart and otherwise shedding blood. His head had been on fire and in excruciating pain, while his chest was aching with the swelling of rage. He’d also experienced mental pain that he couldn’t quite pin down or describe other than a terrifying, vague sense of being absent from his own mind. But he hadn't quite realized just how _bad_ it all was until it was gone. The feeling that he had control over himself was indeed the sweetest relief he’d ever felt.

He remembered attacking Tess and was incredibly ashamed of himself. He felt pressure at his temples as shame filled him with anger at the demon that caused this mess.

“I’m sorry, Tess. I never thought I’d lose it that badly,” he blurted, giving her a light squeeze quickly, which she returned. “What’d I miss?”

He hurriedly looked around, Chax and that massive creature he’d vaguely seen fighting it out with the most hair-raising snarls, growls and roars; the sound of large bodies slamming against each other signaled just how brutal their fighting had gotten. Dante squinted his eyes a little and it clicked to him that the creature was Roy.

“Yeah, it’s Roy alright,” Tess confirmed, reading his expression correctly. “Although he’d rather you call him Abraxas when he’s in full form. But we’ve got bigger fish to fry now!”

And sure enough, a few remaining Madmen were shuffling towards them, possibly attracted to where their brethren had been slaughtered earlier. The ground shook softly again as Chax and Abraxas' fight carried on, with the two creatures sporting few wounds each. They were locked in a death-grip, Chax nearly strangling the massive djinn with his arms around his neck, while Abraxas had his paws all over Chax's head and it was a wonder how the demon's skull hadn't been crushed yet.

Suddenly Chax let a loud, angry scream and shoved Abraxas off him, then slammed both tails against his body and the djinn tumbled backwards with a rumbling sound, hitting the back wall of the underground hall, shaking it. The leonine djinn lay there, dazed, uttering a pained grunt. Chax hesitated a bit, as if torn about whether to finish him but cast a look over his shoulder at the two teenagers, just to see that Dante was no longer under his influence. He snarled, anger contorting his features and strode back towards them, shuffling his pitiful wings and then the stride turned into a lunge, accompanied by a furious roar.

Dante pulled Tess out of the demon’s way, pulling her close and turning his back at him to shield her as Chax roared, barely missing them and skidding along the ground to come to a sudden stop, snarling.

When the roar extinguished itself, Dante slowly released Tess and turned to face his opponent. "Dude. Two words: _Tic-Tac_ ," he said, making Tess smirk. He turned to her briefly. “Can I convince you to stay out of this? Things are gonna get messy," he muttered.

She chuckled then shook her head. "Stay out? I don't know, I don't think he's going to let me," she said, gesturing to Chax. "Besides, what are you going to do to stop me?"

Saying so, she flicked her arm without even looking at the demon and caused a blast of fire on the ceiling, making a chunk of rock break off and fall directly on Chax, who took it on the head and let a painful snarl as his middle horn let a snapping sound and its tip broke off.

"GO!" She told Dante, pointing him towards the Rebellion while she dashed for one of the two handguns.

Dante didn’t argue, though the fact she got herself involved didn’t agree with him. He darted across the ground, coming up to his trusty Rebellion. He dropped to a roll to dodge the swing of one of Chax’s tails, as the demon shook himself violently to recover from the rock to the head. As he rolled, he grabbed the hilt of the sword and when he came to his feet again he twirled it around. He gripped it tightly and grunted as he approached Chax who dove at him as well.

The demon had raised his arm as he approached and four spectral swords of glowing gray hovered beside him in two pairs. He flicked his wrist and hurled two of them at the slayer, who brought his sword up and diagonal, throwing such force behind his sword that, hit or miss, it dragged him into the air some six or seven feet and the blades missed. Dante's blade, however, did hit Chax, striking his chest and head with a strong blow under the chin, making his head swing back and he growled painfully.

Tess was dodging and incapacitating Madmen on her way to one of the handguns. She spotted Ivory lying on the ground among some Madmen and made a mad dash towards it, dodging demons all the way. She jumped over one of them, step-kicked off his head to pass over another one and slammed her foot into the face of a third, knocking him on his back and stepping down on the floor again. She ducked and slid right between the legs of a Madman. The demon let a curious growl and bent over to watch her go, unaware of one of its brothers raising a hatchet overhead, intended for her. The hatchet hit the other demon's head and Tess used blasts of fire to clear a bit of space around her as she stopped in a crouch then dove forward in a dodge-roll to avoid others, grabbing the gun as she did.

She launched a kick up at the crotch of a Madman, making him squeal like swine and fall onto the floor, curling in a ball. Holding the heavy gun, she didn't dare to use it with one hand, unless she wanted to break her wrist, only jerked her free arm and made lashes of fire burn the Madmen around her.

As soon as she was sure he was in the clear, Tess threw the gun at him. "Dante!”

Dante's attention turned to Tess as she called out his name, but a second too late. Ivory twirled through the air and right past the hand he held up to catch it and smacked the slayer in the face, knocking his head back. Tess watched him and grimaced a little as he reeled back and stared at her, catching the gun before it fell to the ground.

 _What the hell was that, Tess!?_ He thought. That was…awkward.

The sound of Chax coming again made Dante turn quickly, sword and gun in hand. He wound back his arm and deflected another pair of those floating gray swords that Chax hurled his way before lumbering in. Dante then rushed him and Chax let a high-pitched growl as the sword impaled itself into his lower torso, the force making the demon stagger and begin to bend a little from the impact. The next second a bullet from Dante’s gun hit him in the head, straight in the middle of the base of his forehead's horn. Chax's head whipped back with a cracking sound and when the demon brought his head down again, the bullet had lodged into the horn, splitting it some ways up, and blood was trickling down his face from the split base. Chax breathed harshly for a moment, his narrow nostrils flaring angrily as his crazy grin widened to expose his fangs.

Chax turned his head a bit and cast a tentative look over at Tess, who was still dispatching most of the Madmen around them, using swift kicks and strong fire lashes. Dante fired another bullet into Chax’s chest, making the demon snap back towards him angrily.

“Don’t get distracted!” the teenager chuckled, feeling confident.

A soft rumble made him glance aside; back across the hall some Madmen were surrounding Abraxas' still form hesitantly and curiously. The large cat suddenly let a throaty snarl and shook, stirring and rising to feet, growling. He glared down at the Madmen that were backing away from him and with an angry growl swiped at them with his paw, sending many of them flying in every possible direction. His claws gutted half of them and others were broken and maimed by the sheer force of the swipe. Abraxas let a throaty growl as he started down the long hall to reach the main fight.

Dante smirked. “Back off old man, this guy’s mine! We got some unfinished business! But thanks for softening him up for me! You wanna try talking the Twig into getting outta here with you?”

“I’d be happy to try,” was the djinn’s cool reply. Dante was happy to hear him tired, yet unflappable as ever. “Mind yourself now, Dante!”

He’d strode over to Ebony now and easily tipped the handgun over his foot, kicking it up and catching it effortlessly, then charged back at Chax, both guns now in hand, aimed forward at Chax’s grin and opened fire as rapidly as his fingers could click off shots.

Striding closer to the demon all the while, he grunted: “You wanna see me go crazy, I’ll show you crazy, dipshit!”

Chax snarled. "You think you’re safe just because you’ve got your senses, brat?” he laughed. “Nobody will leave this place alive, let alone _you_!”

The demon let another arrogant laugh and lunged ahead and swung his arm to intercept the halfling's charge. Dante’s eyes glowed red as he approached the beast and he jumped. His jump came up short, fooling Chax so that his swing missed. The slayer rolled the rest of the way to his opponent, holstering his guns and quickly rising with an uppercut to Chax's jaw as he shouted, “Chew on THIS!”

The force of the hit made Chax’s head snap back with an angry crack and the demon growled in fury, staggering back and cursed profusely as he spat out a tooth. Dante cringed at the missed opportunity to nail the demon harder with his sword.

“Tess! Are you alright?” Abraxas called over the din of combat.

A very large Madman seemed to leap out of nowhere and landed onto the beast’s back. Abraxas snarled, rearing onto his hind legs, twisting his head around and snapping up the gargantuan Madman in his jaws and then throwing him towards a wall. The large body of the demon crashed onto the stone with a loud crack and then slumped to the ground.

Tess high-kicked one of the last Madmen near her and grabbed the arm of another that was barrelling her way to tackle her. With an adept move, reminiscent of aikido, she tripped him and with a move of the arm, used the Madman's own momentum to throw him, sending him directly towards Dante, just in time for the lug to become impaled from a sword flung by Chax, to get his attention.

“I’m fine, will you both stop treating me like a damsel in distress!? For pity’s sake! I’m not going anywhere!” she shouted at both.

Dante heard Abraxas nearly chuckle and he stood a fair distance from them, making sure no more Madmen got near them. He caught the maddened demons like a cat among mice, swatting them about with his paws or sweeping them across the hall with his muscular tail. The djinn bled from cuts and gashes over his body but seemed to be in no danger.

Tess was still pretty angry though and yelled at Dante again. “Quit worrying about me, I'm a big girl! If I go, that maniac's gonna bloody _rape_ you! He hasn't had any for centuries and you're like a magnet for that stuff!”

Dante met that comment with a small jaw-drop as she half turned and hurled a flame ball at Chax's direction, deflecting two of the floating swords that were hurling their way.

“Foolish children!” Chax growled, as the swords all returned to him. “Why must you make things so irritatingly complicated?!” he went on, trudging towards Dante again and hurling all four of his floating swords at him.

After dodging the Madman who came stumbling his way and took the strike meant for him, Dante came quickly to his feet from the roll. He turned back to Chax just in time to see the swords heading his way. With no time to dodge fully, he braced himself and very muscle in his body tensed. He dodged, moving to the side fast, evading two of the blades but getting hit by the other two. The force was such that his sword was knocked out of his hand.

The large blades pierced him in the chest and shoulder and Dante shouted in pain. They were vastly different than the scythes of the lesser demons, so they definitely hurt a whole lot more. Within seconds his body went numb from shock and he dropped to one knee but his eyes never changed. He slowly raised his head, anger and pain both contorting his face.

From the corner of his vision he saw Tess making her way over to him to help, but Chax got in the way, stomping towards Dante himself and swung his arm in an attempt to grab her. She yelped and dodged, jumping back and avoiding his arm easily but she was hit by the swing of one of his two tails. The sharp prongs on them barely missed her as the scaly limb slammed into her waist, knocking the wind out of her and sent her flat on her back, dragging her back along the floor for a couple of feet. She lay there dizzy in a stun, although she was virtually unharmed.

Chax now towered over Dante, glaring down at him from empty, bleeding eye-sockets and his grin warped into an angry snarl.

“Stupid kid. If you'd just back off and let me have my way, you'd spare yourself all this idiocy. Humanity is _dead_ for you, Dante. You were born a demon and that's what you'll be, _forever_. No matter what you do for them, what sacrifices you make, what pain you endure for their sake--they will never see you as anything better than a devil, _a monster_. Its no use pretending to be a human,” he snarled, slamming his other tail into Dante's chest, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground.

Dante let out a deep bellow as the wind was forced from his lungs. He landed on his back, gasping for air.

He tried to snake away from Chax, but the demon dropped his foot over the boy's chest, pushing his weight down on him, while drawing out the swords, two in each hand and they hovered beside him again. The action made Dante shout in pain and he thrashed, trying to get away. Chax then bent over and leered down at Dante, reaching out and pinning down one of his arms with his hand, the other ready to gesture the swords for the finishing blow.

“You may look like a human, but you're only deluding yourself. If you'd just been honest with yourself, you would have--“

The great demon stopped suddenly and seemed to just stare. He hesitated. His wings shuffled, uneasily and his tails curled. He reared his head back a little bit. Dante glared back with clenched teeth, before his look span around trying to find a way out of this mess.

“What is this?” he muttered, sounding surprised. He inhaled through the nose, sniffing tentatively. He grimaced with a snarl.

“It can't be--?” he went on, lowering his free hand to Dante's face, his index finger pointing at Dante's cheekbone.

One of the swords had gone through his shoulder, and on its way in the edge had grazed his cheek, cutting a small wound there which still bled. Chax poked it with his index finger, sinking his claw into the flesh. Dante howled in pain at the sharp act of the claw digging into his face and his legs kicked spontaneously, never quite hitting a mark. Chax pulled his claw out, covered in blood. The teenager could see his sword lying just a few feet away but still painfully out of reach. It was his only ticket out as Chax had stopped every attempt to attack him, puzzling over his discovery.

Of course, he didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to guess what was coming and although he smirked, he braced himself for the inevitable reaction from Chax. The demon brought the blood to his face, sniffed it and licked it off his finger. He froze for a moment, seeming surprised--shocked even. Dante glanced around to see Tess coming round form her daze, propping herself up on her elbow while pressing her side with her free hand; her look said that she too was anticipating the same thing. Dante looked to Abraxas and his reaction was similar, he’d stopped bothering with the Madmen, took a step closer and stood with one paw off the ground, tense and staring as if he knew what was coming.

Surely enough Chax let an appalled scream and pulled off Dante, literally leaping back as if the halfling were something impossibly disgusting.  

“IT CAN'T BE!” he howled, pulling himself away and shrugging his wings angrily. “SPARDA?! IMPOSSIBLE! _Sparda is dead!_ This can't be!! A halfling?!” he ranted and raged, his tails whipping against the floor so hard they formed cracks where they struck. “The filthy traitor had a son?! WITH A HUMAN?! IMPOSSIBLE!” he roared.

Chax brought his hands to his head, throwing it back and broke into a hysteric laugh, somewhat like the laugh of a paranoid person. “IT’S TRUE, DAMN IT! OH SWEET UNDERWORLD, THE _SHAME_! The Dark Knight, the human-lover--that half-wit Sparda fathered a bastard--with a human!” he laughed, hysterically. There was, however, a tinge of fear in his laugh. “SPARDA'S LEGACY OF DISGRACE LIVES! In a fucking halfling!”

Dante winced a little, although he didn’t lose his smirk. That reaction was interesting. Chax hadn’t realized earlier, making him think that this demon was probably cooped up for far too long. It made him wonder though, whether the rest of the Underworld would know. He finally staggered to his feet, feeling his strength returning. As the demon started to recover from his prolonged laugh, Dante drew up Ebony and shot for Chax's horn to get his attention again. The bullet struck with a loud crack whipping the demon’s head back again.

Dante felt incredibly angry but also weirdly cool-headed and in control of himself. He felt like he could play around with this big demon and not care about the consequences. His eyes were still tinged with red and he felt his blood racing hot with determination.

“You got some nerve talking about my old man like that. Maybe I don’t care much about him, but I’m proud of what he stood for. I know what I’m stickin’ up for. I know I'm _not_ human, I'll never be. But this is _their_ world and the likes of you want to fuck it over. My father’s gone, but I’m here to put an end to this shit. And the end starts--“

He took a stance, poised to attack. “With you son of a bitch.” 

The next thing he knew, he hurled his sword ahead like a spear; it twirled edge over edge once and cleaved a path through Chax’s abdomen, very nearly going right through him. The force made the demon staged backwards and before he stood straight, he seized the blade and yanked it out of his chest before Dante could fire a shot to push it through him like he wanted. However, before the gaping hole in the demon’s chest could close, a torrent of fire collided with his back, making the blood and the flesh sizzle, stopping it from regenerating all the way.

Chax howled in pain, throwing the sword away from him and glared over his shoulder at the witch, who was now standing behind him, in an aggressive stance, with her arms to her sides. Blazes were hovering over her hands and her green eyes were hard as steel.

“You’ll have to kill me before you get anything from me, freak,” she said with an angry smile. “I’ll make you regret crawling out of your seal, bucket-head.”

Dante caught his blade with a relatively carefree jump. He grinned at Tess as he landed, knowing this was probably going to herald a pretty interesting fight. And not once did he pause to think that he wasn’t fighting some small-time demon like he had most of the time so far, but rather a powerful and extremely skilled great demon. It just sailed clean over his head.

When he charged at the demon again, he felt something breaking through him and that familiar tug at the back of his mind got stronger. He felt his hands swelling at the joints as his nails elongated to claws and his teeth grew sharp. His aura surged into view, almost liquid and flaring viciously, flowing in streaks over his skin as dark veins ran over it. His eyes flushed red against black and he felt a snarl rumbling in his throat. That was likely the closest he’d ever been to changing into the real demon still dormant within him. He felt strength and speed surging in him and as he charged Chax again and dodged the swing of Chax’s massive tails.

“Tess, gimmie some light!” he shouted.

Tess seemed to have expecting that request and with a simple move of the wrist, almost like a dance move, nearly white blazes of fire trailed along the ground like a snake, right up to Dante. They dove into his aura, giving it a somewhat white sheen for a moment, before flaring up and engulfing the sword, lighting the blade with a condensed, searing flame. Before he could follow into his next move, Chax ducked to avoid a Madman that came flying overhead to crash into the wall behind them, accompanied by the throaty, leonine growls of Abraxas.

“Keep calling your minions, demon, see if I care! They’re mice to me!” the djinn scoffed.

Madmen occasionally swarmed into the hall but the enormous lion beast took care of them quickly enough.

Dante took advantage of Chax’s momentary distraction and rushed in with his sword poised to strike. Chax didn’t seem to care to guard against the assault; he hunched over, his craggy wings pulling towards his back and as Dante came in, he flailed both tails, sending them straight down on the boy. They struck with the blades straight at him and at the same time the demon jerked both his arms to make all four swords hurl down on the boy as well.

“Hah! Now you're a little more of an _actual_ challenge, son of Sparda-- _AAAAUGH_!” he screeched.

He arched his back up as a searing whip of red flames licked his hide, burning part of the thin skin of the wing clean off its supporting limbs, with a foul stench of burning flesh.

Tess pulled the whip back, bits of charred skin falling off Chax. “I don’t think you’ve got any right to mention that name, dipshit. Besides, you’d do better to remember the names of the people that are taking you down!” she snapped.

Dante had dodged the tails, but the swords got him again; he still hadn’t gotten his eye in properly to evade them, no matter how hard he backpedalled and twisted. He arched his back and grunted in pain as each sword hit. They sank deep in his flesh and dropped him to his knee. Fortunately, Tess was there to keep Chax from following up with his attack with another wave of fire right to his face this time. It must’ve hit his eyesockets because the demon reeled back with a tremendous roar of pain.

He smirked a little bit, despite the trickle of blood coming from his mouth, watching her look so determined and fierce in a way that made her look...downright beautiful, actually. He forced himself to stand, starting to draw the swords out of him one by one. Blood came pouring from the wounds, but they still healed almost instantly.

“It’ll take more than that to stop me,” he said in a relatively cheerful tone.

He suddenly sheathed Rebellion, pulled out his guns with the same fluid motion and twirling them once, took aim and fired a few times before the shots became charged with flashes of red energy. Each shot knocked Chax back a little bit and then was met with a powerful, fiery blast from Tess that staggered him. He pulled himself up, thrashing a little erratically, before abruptly turning around and heading straight for Tess. He appeared to be overcome by fury and intent on getting her, either because she was weaker, or because he wanted his eyes back. The swords flung themselves up and followed him, darting ahead towards her.

“You little BITCH!” he snarled.

Dante hurried after him in an attempt to intercept the demon, but Tess braced herself. She looked confident. The swords outdid Chax in speed, but she had already noticed the pattern of movement. She abruptly moved to the side as one by one the swords deviated slightly from their starting course and hurled towards her. She ran along the wall that once held that hellish painting.

One of the swords passed right behind her and crashed into the wall. Another headed directly for her but she dodged it with a graceful sort of twirling motion, allowing the blade to pass behind her and hit the wall too and she did not have to reduce her running speed. The next two blades came close together and she was almost grazing the wall as she ran.

She kicked off the ground and hit her foot on the wall, pushing herself upwards, allowing both swords to impale into the wall below her. She came down as Chax came within striking range from her, his arm reared to either grab or crush her. She just used the swords as a footing to push herself further up and hit her foot against the wall to push herself away from it as Chax skid into it, turning at the last moment, so that his shoulder hit the wall with a loud thud. Tess turned in mid-air and landed on her feet in a crouch and a roll then stood remarkably fast.

She faced Chax again, with a small, confident sort of smile, as if the remarkably fast sequence of moves she had pulled off had simply been to her amusement. Chax shook his head in a bit of surprise. He clearly had not expected that kind of escape from Tess. Dante gave a throaty, amused laugh as he watched his Twig give Chax a run for his money, with that look of perfect contempt.

 _If she keeps this stuff up I might just have to start properly dating her..._ he thought, chuckling.

He then shot three rounds in Chax's direction, into the wall, mere centimetres from the demon’s face. They were warning shots to get Chax's attention once again. The demon lord couldn't help but notice them, not because of the noise or their threat...but the bullets were a bright red blur, almost like a flair, that passed by his face.

Dante called out mockingly, "Hey! _Spike!_ C'mere, boy! Leave the girl alone, we're not done playing yet!" he said, smacking his thigh as if inviting a dog to come over.

Tess chuckled at Dante's comment and he felt a tinge of delight to know that his smack-talk amused her.

Chax pulled himself and his swords off the wall shortly after the bullets hit. He said nothing, only snarled and trudged at them, his floating swords pulling closer to his sides. He frowned and stretching both arms as he hurled all four swords again, this time making sure they would fly continuously in a random pattern of straight lines, heading for or passing by them in order to slash, pierce or cut them.

Dante knew in the back of his mind that an attack like this was coming. The demon's been struck over and over; he was getting desperate. Dante dashed towards Tess, unsheathing his sword on the way, still aflame. He quickly spun around to deflect one of the swords coming his way. It all seemed so slow to him now and he barely registered the enemy sword bounce back. He grabbed Tess in his left arm, pulled her against him and at the same time turned again, to knock back another blade.

As soon as she was safely up against him with her arm over his shoulders, they began what seemed to be a mad version of a dance. With incredibly fast speed and amazing precision, Dante began deflecting the repetitive passes of the blades, turning round and round and moving all the while, keeping one arm around her waist and Tess moved along with him,. The clangs of metal on metal were so close together, it sounded like someone quickly sharpening a butcher's knife. One after the other, each blade was deflected or dodged with a graceful dash that really did make this stunt display look like a waltz from Hell.

He was relieved to find that she was more than able to keep up and instead of dragging her along she was easily keeping up with the twirls and using her fire blasts to deflect other swords.

“Haha, faster!” she even laughed and Dante chuckled.

The demonic swords bounced back or flipped over sometimes but always began zooming back towards them in a repetitive assault from almost every conceivable angle. She had grabbed onto his shoulder for a better hold as they moved dizzyingly. She seemed to be perfectly fine, even in close contact with his surging aura.

Eventually the whole thing ended when one of Chax's blades collided directly with the flaming Rebellion. A large part of the demonic blade broke off from the force of the impact and the two pieces clattered on the ground. The other three stopped their dizzying zooming, and returned by Chax, who snarled angrily. He panted with deep breaths, showing that he was getting weary. Dante calculated that even decades of feeding upon the despair and madness of the incarcerated had not been enough to sate his need for rejuvenation. And his frustration at lacking his eyes was probably mounting by the minute, especially with Tess right in front of him, dangled like a carrot.

As soon as they’d stopped, the redhead looked up at Dante with a smirk. “Nice dancing. Are we treating this as a date?”

Dante chuckled at her response, but before he could come back at her with a witty remark of his own, Chax let a furious roar.

“Oh, I think we’ve pissed him off,” Dante scoffed. “What’s up big guy, getting irked you can’t scare us? A little vain, aren’t you?”

Just as he’d expected, Chax was getting increasingly irritated at their lackadaisical impudence. He flung another of the three remaining swords at them, more out of rage than tactical choice.

Dante saw the sword coming at him and as it came closer, he drew Ebony, turned and stretching his arm out, aimed at the sword. By the time the charged shot fired off, the tip of the sword had gotten in the way. The bullet hit the sword on the tip, making the blade flip over and with a serene smirk, Dante pulled away from Tess and kicked it on the pommel. The sword hurled back at the attacker with great force. Chax growled, watching the boy's impressive way of repelling the attack. As the sword came hurtling at him, Chax jerked his arm in front of him, diagonally, making the two remaining swords come up and forced them into an opposite strike that broke the sword Dante had kicked back towards him. The broken pieces fell on the ground and Chax was left with two blades alone.

He glared at them, ignoring the blood trickling out of his empty sockets. “Impudent humans,” he grunted.

Before he could unleash another assault on them, Tess raised her arms and with the strange grace as before, she quickly began firing off bursts of fire towards Chax, so condensed they were almost solid. She was almost _dancing_ ; every move, every twirl making the tongues of fire move differently, coming in from different angles, with the same flawless precision, circling Chax like predators. They collided onto the demon's face, chest, arms and wings with enough force to make him back-step a couple of times as he couldn’t find a way to stop them. Her fire bolts became faster and faster, till it was almost as though she were firing off a gun at him. Already worn down, Chax felt the fires hurt him, searing his skin and exposing flesh below. One of the bursts hurtled at him and tore through the thinner skin of his already abused wings, and he howled in pain and thrashed.

Dante took advantage of the demon’s distraction, with a grin; watching Tess become this aggressive was really impressive and it suited her too, especially since she pulled it off with _that_ much style.

“ _Tch-tch-tch_. See, Spikey? You play with fire, you get burned!” he chuckled.

With Chax trying to guard against Tess’ barrage, Dante got in close with a brisk step, his burning sword at ready and an almost mean grin graced by fangs. Chax, covered in hideous burns from head to toe, snarled at him as another blast of fire staggered his form and lurched towards the teenager. He took one remaining sword in each hand and as he carried his bulk into Dante, he swung them both in front of him in opposite directions, like the blades of a scissor. Dante dodged the swing almost effortlessly.

“Tess!!”

The girl tore her eyes off the battle commencing in front of her to Abraxas, calling her name. The djinn stood on the main portion of the hall below, now littered with dozens upon dozens of Madman bodies, reeking of blood. He was tired and panting with his jaws hanging agape from effort and his injuries. He nodded at the floor below him and Tess saw a large crack running along the floor from the raised platform and heading for the rear. Squinting to barely distinguish it, she saw the traced outline of the seal she had seen in a premonition earlier.

The crack was running from the circumference towards the pentacle in the very centre and as she watched, the crack inched closer to it. She didn't care exactly to know what was still sealed up behind that seal but her instinct told her that if the seal broke, it would be the end of them all.

“Dante!” she cried. “We’re running out of time! He’s gotta go down, _now_! Before his bonds completely go!”

 She was not confident at all about the idea of trying to re-establish a seal that evidently had taken a full coven of wiccans to successfully place.

Dante heard her and cringed. He didn’t like being rushed but the urgency of the situation had occurred to him for some time now. As Chax rushed him again, Dante stood firm, planting himself into a solid stance and tilted his sword before him. The moment the demon came in, Dante deflected his swing and thrust his sword through the demon’s gut while pressing his free hand against his chest. With almost zero effort, he launched the demon over and behind him. He completed the same fluid motion by spinning round and drawing his guns, charging up his shots and then firing a barrage of them at the demon.

Chax fell ahead heavily, barely missing falling on his face; he hit the ground on his knees, dragging along the ground. He stood on a knee, panting wildly, exhaustion beginning to settle in, judging by the way he breathed short and deep and how his wounds were healing no more. The hectic tremble of the wings further betrayed that the great demon was at his limits. Apparently by killing off the Madmen as they came, Abraxas had managed to stem off his source of power, leaving the demon to waste what vitality he had regained by fighting the young slayer.

“Sparda’s son...” he sneered lowly and Dante tensed. “And the filthy breed of wiccans. You think you’re going to bring an end to the Underworld?”

Dante frowned. “Won’t stop me from trying,” he said with an angry smirk.

Chax panted as his empty sockets flowed with blood; it foaming from his mouth as he panted and gurgled out of wounds that now gapped open for longer and longer. The demon cackled.

“You really think you're the winner, boy,” he spat. “Whether you live or not won't really make any difference. If you survive you're still going to eventually succumb to your blood's heritage.”

Chax made another effort to stand but just staggered, weak.

He snarled, “You'll _never_ be able to let go of the power, you'll feel its sweet stupor and become like us. Fight it all you like. It’s going to tear through your soul eventually. And then you'll just be as I showed you. That _IS_ you, Dante. That demon is within you, hold a mirror up to your soul and that's what you'll see. So get off that high horse of yours and face reality. Whether I find myself defeated here, you will _never win against yourself_.”

He glared at Tess too. "Wretched girl. _Stupid_ girl. I know your decisions--the sacrifice you made. It’s going to be for nothing. Your kind will have the fate you deserve, bitches. Spiralling yourselves to your own doom, narrow-minded creatures. Run all you like, dear Tess, others _will_ find you. They all will know. That sight of yours--they're all going to want it for themselves. You'll never rest!” he laughed hysterically, ignoring the blood streaming out of his mouth as he laughed.

Dante gritted his teeth quietly. “Shut up,” he growled. “Fine, maybe I'll end up as that creature you made me into tonight and maybe I'll end up like every other bloodthirsty demon. But that’ll have to get past _me_ first. Maybe Tess too, if it has to,” he sneered. “You keep telling me to look into my soul and that's just it, Spike; the difference between us. I _have_ one!”

Like they’d made some silent agreement, the demon and the slayer both attacked. Dante rushed forward, holding his sword so the blade lined up with his coat as it flailed behind him. The slayer's speed was incredible. Chax had sprang up, on the last ounces of his power and stomped towards Dante with thudding footsteps and flailing whips of his tails, with one sword overhead and the other swung back. It took the two opponents less than a couple of seconds to reach each other.

As soon as Dante was in reach, he swung with all his might, blurting an angry shout as he did so. This last rush felt like a vindication of everything he understood about himself, fuelled by those that motivated his resolution. He had been tested this entire time and this night he had emerged victorious. The fire from his blade, fuelled by his overflowing aura, trailed behind his swing with the brightness of a star.

Tess watched them go and had to force herself not to interfere. Besides, she was thinking over what the demon had said. _‘You will never rest’_ and _‘They will all know’_.

 _I’ve known for a while. Because I can see the past and the future and things that are beyond human or even demon perception…I know what it means, the doors it can open, the power and the knowledge. Only I don’t want it. Power is too unstable, too fickle and I’m not strong enough to bear this burden._ _It’s not a gift, it’s a curse._ _And I know they’ll never leave me alone,_ she thought.

Chax let a drawn out roar to match Dante's shout and trudged rapidly towards the boy, rearing back one arm holding a blade and swinging it overhead, to bring it down on Dante as he approached. The blade swung down but missed. Dante had dodged it cleanly with a twirl and struck first, the blade swinging sideways and hacking a great cut along the chest of the demon lord, almost slicing his torso in two. The fire burned through the wound with a loud hissing sound. One of his wings was caught in the momentum of the blade and ripped off, flung aside in a gushing fountain of dark coloured blood.

Chax collapsed to his knees with a throaty grunt drowned in the gurgle of blood. He trembled and trying to stand, supported his weight on one sword with its tip on the ground. Pain shook him as blood kept gushing from his torn chest and the hole left by his sheared wing. He gazed down at the seal, still intact despite crack formed by all the despair of the victims as they died and the twisted souls he had created. The crack had stopped growing and the seal had stayed strong. Then he glared over at Tess, just out of his reach. She stood unafraid and stared back. Even with empty sockets, he looked full of envy and frustration.

He grunted. “Ah...all these centuries...all this patience--for nothing.”

Tess stared him down with an icy gaze very fit for a witch that had grown into her power at last and would keep developing into a formidable mistress of her kind’s arts.

“Tough luck, bastard,” she replied dryly, unable to resist a cruel smile, fit for a witch.

She looked vindicated; this was her revenge on the demon, for Magda, her parents, the suffering he put her friend through--it was her vindication as a witch, as a survivor. She no longer drifted on the tides of fate, but had made a conscious decision to face her foe and got through it.

Dante strode up to her, panting a little bit. “You wanna finish him off, Twig? He put you through hell; you deserve to take him out. He can’t lift a finger now.”

Tess seemed to ponder over it a bit and sighed. She ignored the demon and looked right at Dante; the half-demon that tossed her life over. Something that had to be done or she might’ve never escaped the prison she’d built around herself. He knew he’d never decide on her feelings, they’d always be out there, lacking description and as evasive as her smiles.

 “Thank you but...No. I don’t want to go near him.” She shook her head. “Besides, it doesn’t matter who finishes him. We fought him together. He almost drove you crazy. You suffered all this because I couldn’t see this chain of madness soon enough and stop it.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re the winner here, Dante. I’m just keeping up as best I can. You deserve to finish the bastard.”

Dante smiled wide at her, despite his still persistent fangs. He was still riding the adrenaline of the battle, but he may as well shown a little red on the face.

“This one’s for you then, Twig,” he said merrily.

He tightened his grip on the sword, stepped closer to Chax and swung it hard. He didn’t hesitate for even a moment to bury the blade straight through Chax's cold, demonic heart. The sword went in with a resounding crack and the fierce tearing of flesh. Chax let a drawn out roar, rearing back as Dante let go of the sword and draw his guns with a flourish and a twirl. He lingered for a moment and stared right at the demon’s empty sockets.

“So long, you son-of-a-bitch…” he muttered as he pulled the triggers.

Two powerful charged shots fired off the guns, jerking Dante’s arms back and struck the demon right in the empty eyes, nearly blowing the head apart. Fountains of blood gushed out from the sockets as Chax let a last, hysteric laugh and toppled over, falling on his side with a thud. His tails writhed and twitched for a while before they grew still.

Just like that, the nearly-rejuvenated Mad God was dead and Dante laughed in triumph; Tess let out a breath she’d been holding and Abraxas uttered a prideful roar of delight.

Of course, Dante knew it in his gut that their troubles weren't quite over yet.


	21. Goodbye and Good Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there are tears, farewells and I am put out of my misery.

With the worst of the battle over, Dante sheathed his sword at last and as he did, he felt his demonic characteristics beginning to fade. His aura settled and then sank into invisibility to all but Tess, the veining on his skin faded and his teeth and nails returned to normal. His eyes took the longest to recover, staying that black and red before eventually returning to their natural icy blue.

“Hey Twig, everything ok? Anything get you?” he blurted, eying her from top to bottom to find her almost completely unhurt.

Tess chuckled, looking at him. In truth, she looked merely tired, besides a few scrapes and bruises.

“Aw, you're worried about me,” she said. “You love me,” she added in a manner that echoed his particular way of saying that.

Dante felt his eyebrows bow up and for one of the few times in his life, at a bit of a loss for words. He looked to the side awkwardly, feverishly trying to think up a witty retort and coming up empty, rubbing the back of his neck. Fortunately, his face didn’t heat up or so it seemed.

 _How’s she keep doing that?_ He thought.

“Anyway...” he grumbled. “You better hope no other wackjob demon doesn’t come after ya like this ‘cuz...I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty.”

“Well aren’t you talking cute. I never thought it possible,” Tess chuckled. “And you mind your demon side, mister, because if you lose it again, I’m not going to be there to stab you.”

He wanted to fire something back at her playfully, or maybe even cheekily demand a kiss as a reward, but they both turned to see Roy, in his good old human form again, albeit pretty battered. The old man clambered over the edge of the raised platform and came to meet them. He looked thinner and older somehow, and still kept his eye bandaged. Still, as always there was something very regal and dignified about him.

Dante grinned at him. “Hey old man! You just couldn’t help yourself, couldja? You okay?”

Roy chuckled. “That’s Abraxas for you, young man, but I’ll let it slide for now. And I’m perfectly fine, thank you for asking,” he replied, slightly conceited.

He put his hands on his waist and stared at the great demon’s carcass for a long moment. “Very well done, both of you,” he said quietly and gave Dante a hearty pat on the back. “I’m very proud of you.”

Dante couldn’t help an utterly cheesy grin, while Tess blushed. He’d grown to love Roy’s quiet but heartfelt approval.

“If you’re both alright, we should get going,” the djinn added. “This is no place to dawdle in.”

Dante scoffed. “Of course I’m alright! I’m a demon!” he boasted smugly.

Roy rolled his eye at him while Tess just nodded to show she was fine. “Hey Roy, isn’t he cute when he’s all cocky like this?” she teased.

“Cocky is quite the understatement…” Roy snorted.

Dante protested a little. “Aw c’mon, let me bask in the moment!”

But even he wanted to get out of there. Dozens upon dozens of dead Madmen were strewn about. The place reeked of blood, body parts and the rank smell of death, Dante included. He was actually rather amazed that they had come out of the fray relatively unharmed. Bruised and scraped maybe and they were definitely gonna be sore tomorrow, but aside from his healed injuries, neither of them had lost any blood. But he felt sore already. He tilted his head, and his neck cracked in several places.

“So how’d we get out of here, old man?” he asked Roy.

The djinn made a sour face, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes. “If you call me old again, I'll _kick_ your sad half-demon buttocks out of here," he grumbled.

He walked past them towards the hole he had opened when he charged in earlier. “At any rate, let’s get out through this side. I've made a bit of a mess while I came through but it should be easy enough. With Chax’s death the temporal mess of space he made should’ve collapsed back into relative normalcy.”

Tess rolled her eyes with a smirk and followed, and Dante resisted the urge to drape his arm across her shoulders and walk with her. Maybe after they were out of this wreck and safe, he’d have plenty of time to mess around with her again.

They climbed through the gaping hole that opened into what seemed to be a service stairwell for the more recent sections of the building, while it still was a real mental institute. Roy was looking a little sluggish now, but when the two teenagers looked at him with matching expressions of concern, he dismissed them.

“I’m tired, what do you think? I got wrecked and had my eye poked out earlier, I had to travel all the way to the coven and back and now I wrestled a greater demon and swatted around his dozens of minions. Of course, I’m tired, I haven’t got endless energy!” he grumbled.

Dante just smiled at him sheepishly and realized that it wasn’t just Roy. He felt pretty exhausted and sore himself. He was looking forward to a lengthy sleep, eased by the knowledge that they’d be safe.

The staircase was relatively intact and a pretty clear way up. It was nice and quiet too, with the only prevailing sounds being soft creaks of the settling building and some gritty sounds of falling dust or debris. Roy led the way up at a fairly decent pace, despite limping a little bit and every other floor he paused to take a deeper breath before carrying on with the kids in tow.

Suddenly they all felt a short-lived, but noticeable tremor that shook the building; some dust crumbled down from the ceiling. They all stopped and Roy looked up, rather worried, while Tess looked down behind them nervously. Dante tensed up but didn’t dare to look back. Suddenly the idea of the building coming down on them as a result of Chax’s messing around with it crossed his mind and he gulped.

“Let’s keep moving...!” he blurted, staring right at Roy.

He gently nudged Tess on past Roy, who lingered a little more and looked about him.

“What was that?” he muttered to the djinn.

Roy looked over his shoulder, his single eye darting around and examining the space behind and over them. He then glanced back ahead, his eye skimming along walls as they went up, floor to floor.

“I don't know,” he started quietly, “but I—“

Another, more intense tremor interrupted him and Tess clung to Dante with a small gasp, still staring behind them nervously. Roy looked more alarmed by the minute.

“This isn't an earthquake. It’s the building. But it’s not a structural issue. It’s just—“

A loud sound, like the cracking of a rock coming from the hall they'd just left behind, made them all freeze, followed by the sound of crumbling at stone. After that, there was a long, eerie silence...until Tess peered over the edge of the staircase and down below.

“Look!” she gasped.

Dante glanced down over the edge. There was a strange mass squirming below them, like thick mud or water. It seemed kind of reflective, but as he squinted a little, he thought he could see faintly glowing, small lights. The mass below them seemed to make soft splashing noises, like thick mud being stirred.

“What on earth—“ Roy muttered, and then looked up at the walls surrounding them. “Oh dear, this is not good! _Run_!” he grunted suddenly.

Before Dante could ask why, he looked up and saw for himself. Not only was that mass below them rising really fast up the stairwell, it was starting to ooze out of the walls around them! Tess let a squeak as some of that ooze clung to her shoe and she pulled her foot away.

Puddles of that dark, indescribable substance were rising from the floor, squirming through the walls and dripping from the ceiling. It was neither water, nor mud. It was a strange substance, something between thick water and smoke; neither dry, nor wet, warm nor cold to the touch and sort of whispy. But the sounds were the most bizarre, it made a strange, groaning sort of sound, like many people stuck together and heaving and gasping.

“Run—don't just stand there, run!” Roy called, grabbing both by the arms and urging them to run.

“Th-this thing—oh God, I can hear voices in that thing!” Tess stuttered, squirming away from it. “The seal at the bottom—it broke!”

Dante put his arm around her as she bumped into her. He couldn’t help but stare at that bizarre thing coming at them, that gave him such a chill down his spine, that when Roy gave the order he didn’t even pause to question it. He ushered Tess ahead as they all started a quicker pace up the stairwell. The ooze gave off a foul odor that made Dante feel like he was suffocating.

“What the hell is this thing!?” he asked.

“It’s a haunting!” Tess stuttered. “A _gestalt_! All those twisted souls, their terror, their despair—everything that’s ever been tortured and died in here! Pumped full of demonic essence from the presence of an Underworld demon! No wonder it’s been twisted into this monstrosity! It’s a single and hundreds of entities at the same time!”

The explanation didn’t help Dante’s feeling and the continuous sound that the tortured souls were making annoyed him beyond belief. He gritted his teeth, wishing they’d shut up and kept running up the staircase. Roy’s less than cool-headed look, who kept glancing back to make sure the two were following him, was not heling either. He cast anxious looks at the mass that was now surging and actually had begun following them like a giant slug, rapidly skidding up the stairs.

“Goddamn it all!” Roy growled. “Chax’s plan has gotten all these mad souls stuck here. They’re stuck to the site, that’s why they can't escape! This has nothing to do with demons—they'll obliterate us if they catch up to us! This is absurd! I have to find a way to destroy the whole damn building!”

“The whole—!” Tess blurted, sounding scared. "No! Roy, what if they just—"

It happened far too suddenly. The mass of souls caught up with them and dozens of grasping hands extended from it and groped ahead for anything they could latch onto. As she was the most tired, Tess had been lagging somewhat, and when a hand closed around her ankle, she fell forward and would’ve slammed her face on a step, had she not the sense to put out her hands and break her fall. She let a shout as the grasping hand tightened around her leg and pulled her backwards abruptly. She screamed in pain; the intence feelings trapped within those tormented souls must’ve triggered her second sight and she became paralysed from the sheer dread she was experiencing.

More hands came out from the mass and grasped at her, grabbing her legs, snaking around her waist and reaching for her chest, pulling and tugging her deeper into the main mass of writhing souls. Faces were appearing and dissappearing on the horrible, dark mass and their eyes glowed white, empty and dead with mouths gapped open in frozen, silent screams of anguish, terror and madness. Tess shouted weakly, thrashing in the hold of so many hands and feeling herself sinking inside the mass like water. Fire did nothing to it and she panicked, clawing at the stairs to try to get away. It was slow and terrifying. If they engulphed her, she'd take the full brunt of the horrible miasma trapped within that thing and die of suffocation and the sheer mental trauma.

Dante nearly skid along the landing of the steps as he stopped abruptly, seeing the arms grab Tess. He frowned with anger and drew his sword from his back as he dove at them. He hacked blindly at the dozens of apendages before Tess was pulled into them. They slowed down but didn’t stop. The sword went through them, pulling them this way and that way, but not finding anything solid to strike. Its demonic properties didn’t seem to do anything to them. The mass started dragging her backwards and Dante momentarily gave up slashing to give Ebony a shot. Still grasping his sword tightly and gritting his teeth, scared to high hell for her, he shot a barage of rounds into the mass of the tormented souls. The bullets went harmlessly through; nothing seemed to work.

The next thing he knew, Dante gave up trying to attack the thing and lunged forward, grabbing hold of her forearm. He leaned back and used all his strength to try and pull her free. He grunted, feeling the mass surging around his legs. Their touch stung a little and was cold as ice.

“Tess!” He blurted, looking down at her.

She stared back, with eyes wide from fright, doing her best to resist the gestalt and grasping at his arm futily. “It’s trying to possess me!” she shrieked.

Knowing she couldn’t resist it forever, Dante grit his teeth and dug his sword into the ground to use it as leverage.

“Not...a chance!” he growled.

As the gestalt’s mass surged around his legs, trapping him, Dante felt himself getting colder and started feeling the pressure of this thing’s trapped emotions. It occurred to him that its primary desire was to ‘unload’ some of its piled despair and anguish onto them, but such a thing was sure to kill both of them.

Dante looked over his shoulder to Roy, who’d turned back to help them, but was forced to stop on his tracks as the tremors of the building were shaking the stairwell violently. He might’ve been worried that any sudden movement could have brought a worse disaster on them.

“Dante! Don't let go of her! Whatever happens don't let go of her arm!” he managed to shout as he crouched, bracing himself to keep his weight still and not strain the stairway worse.

Dante shouted his reply, "I'm not fucking retarded!" and kept a tight hold, grunting and struggling.

Entire torsos of pained and maddened souls twisted by the miasma were now rising from the dark mass and snaking around them. A hand grabbed at Dante's leg, while a glob of mass flooded under him, pulling him in. A torso and head rose and wrapped its arms around her waist. Tess struggled, kicking and flailing to move towards Dante, trying to pull her other arm out of the mass as well.

The rear of the mass surged and came to pile up in front of them, like a giant head rearing up from the writhing bodies. It seemed to open a mouth of sorts, revealing a very bright object like a pounding heart. It was silent, gray and white in hue and looked like it was solid.

“Dante!!” Roy shouted. “That thing! It’s the core! Strike it down! Your demonic powers will stun it!”

Tess blurted a scream as that glowing orb grew closer to her.

Dante heard that and was pretty glad for it. As he was being pulled forward his eyes flashed red again and his teeth elongated while his aura poured forth again in a brilliant red. He pulled his sword out of the muck, wound his arm back and lined up his target. The writhing remnants of people just advanced, pulling both in, closer to that 'core' that was bulging dangerously like a beating heart.

“Let go of her!” he growled.

He thrust forward and stuck the demonic blade into the 'core' of the tortured souls, forcing it in further in until it would go no more, shattering its surface. The core let a sound like shattering glass and seemed to shudder helplessly. Dante tightened his grip around Tess’ arm and managed to pull himself a little closer to her.

“Hold on, Tess!” he growled. “I’m not letting them get you.”

Tess nodded dully, grabbing his arm with her hand, locking their grip on each other, still trying to heave herself forward and out of the creatures’ grip.

There was a loud scream, like steel nails scratched against metal and it came from multiple mouthes, all at once. It was deafening and almost burst their eardrums and made the building shake hard again. Even Roy grunted and covered his ears with a painful groan and a cringe. The dark mass suddenly convulsed, spiking up as if in complete pain and began thrashing in erratic motions and violent twitching. The grip on both kids loosened, then tightened and loosened again. Tess managed to free her other arm and grab onto Dante's shoulder to pull herself out. His demonic form relaxed as he grabbed her around the waist to pull her back.

“Careful!” Tess managed, just before both of them were shunted out of the mass as it beat itself against the walls.

They were thrown backwards on the staircase and Tess landed on his chest with a groan, as the mass of dark souls reared back onto itself, still screaming in pain and beating about like a hurt animal. Its thrashing rocked the whole stairwell like a boat caught in a storm. A loud crack preceeded the staircase giving way and then crumbled under them. The mass started falling through the crumbling staircase first and the concrete was breaking apart rapidly, the breaks about to reach the two of them too.

Dante held Tess with one arm tightly around her waist while his other hand gripped his sword. He watched the staircase disintegrate under them in horror, not sure how he was gonna save the two of them. Suddenly there was nothing under him and he felt themselves falling through the breaking staircase and Tess screamed. He was about to try and dig his sword into one of the walls and pray it didn’t break apart under their weight when he felt his arm being clamped between massive teeth.

He looked up and gasped to see Roy in his full djinn form again, his jaw closed around Dante’s arm. The djinn had dove at the edge of the breaking staircase and snatched the boy, his front paws nearly slipping off the edge and the rest of him cramped in the narrow space. It was a delicate grip that did not harm him, but just having his arm jammed between huge canines of a 5-meter tall beast cat made Dante pale. Tess hung off him, panicked, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders and her legs around his waist, rather comically.

Abraxas let a muffled grunt and pulled back up, as the breaking of the stairway stopped and the tremors lessned. He backed up slowly, holding them up like kittens. He let go of Dante's arm and let them drop on solid staircase. Tess kept her grip on him with her arms until they touched the ground, where she sighed in relief, but when they pulled back they still didn’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Hurry, we've got to get out of here! This place won't stand forever and that thing is definately not down for the run—it’s dead anyway!" the djinn growled and urged them ahead, then glaring at the collapsed staircase behind them.

They both darted up the last two flights of stairs before bursting out into a trashed hallway, with Roy hot on their heels, back in his human form. The shaking started again; the whole building must've been rumbling from the squirming of the suffering souls that had poured out of the broken seal. It must’ve released hundreds of trapped, tormented souls.

“We have to do something!!” Tess blurted. “If this thing overflows and escapes the confines of the building—who knows what it could do! It could devour the city!”

“Destroying the building is the way to go!” Roy panted. “Once the source of their torment exists no more they’ll be free to move on! Killing Chax started this snowball, destroying the site will finish it!”

“How the hell are we supposed to destroy the building!?” Dante blurted.

They ran down the hallways, Dante noting that he could recognize some of the rubble-strewn and devastated halls they had navigated when coming in.

"This way!" Roy grunted, nodding towards one end of the hallway with a swing of his head.

They either vaulted over, ducked under or swung past fallen support beams and pieces of bar fences that would’ve separated the hallway into sections.

Suddenly Tess blurted “Wait! I've got it! I know what to do! Dante, remember, we came in through the _boiler room_! It’s still full of fuel—I can blow this place up!!”

Now that was an idea Dante liked. “I like your thinking, Twig!” he said. “Hey Roy! We’re goin’ out with a bang, old man!”

Roy blurted a grunt and heel-kicked a barrier of steel fence debris before him, sending it flying. “So long as we’re not part of the bang! Now stop calling me old!” he snarled.

“Here!” Tess said, pulling Dante to the side and down a second hallway crossing the first one. Roy turned back and came up after them.

They located the boiler room door that Tess and Dante had used earlier.

“Roy! Get out of the building, we’re going to get some fuel around!” Tess told the djinn. “Get out, and wait for us outside!”

“Tess, I’m not sure about this...” he blurted.

“Me either, but its our best shot—now go!" she snapped, kicking the door open and draging Dante along with her.

“How did you kids ever get in here?” Roy blurted.

“Here—“ Tess blurted. She pointed them towards the spot where she had opened the door earlier.

That familiar surge of power rolling from her words rang through the air again as she put her hand on the wall. 

_“Remembrance! Words said, rites completed, come full circle, dance again!”_ she recited, and the slab of wall swung open again.

“First time I see you make a spell repeat itself,” Roy scoffed. “I’m impressed.”

“Not the time—Roy get out. Dante, we’ve got to hurry; find any boiler that’s connected to a fuel tank with anything in it and break the pipes, we gotta get stuff to spill out and then we blow it up!” Tess said, grabbing a steel pipe lying on the floor.

She started smashing the dials on one of the working boilers and Dante followed suit, drawing his sword and cutting up some piping. The smell of fuel spread through the air as liquids and fumes spilled on the floor and filled the room. The boiler Tess trashed left squealing sounds and rattled.

“Dante, get your guns ready and head for the door, we can’t stay here now, there’s too much fuel and pressure!” Tess blurted, dropping the pipe and ushering him towards the gap Roy had stepped out of.

“I like the plan, sweetheart!” he chuckled, securing his sword to his back and drew Ebony and Ivory. “Just let me know when you want the boom!”

They went out the open part of the wall while Tess was looking back intently, seemingly memorizing the position of the tanks. They ran out and down the shallow hill the building stood upon until they were a good number of feet away and turned around. Tess breathed out and loosened her shoulders a little before raising her arms, evidently to try and control the resulting fire ball.

“Okay...fire. Try to hit a tank so it’ll ricochet and spark. Once things start blowing up, I’ll control the flames and contain them in the building. This place is going down. ”

Dante raised his guns but suddenly felt a little...anti-climactic. “Are you sure this is gonna start a fire? And suppose it does...aren’t we a little close?”

She actually looked over right at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Really? You wanna start this... _now_?”

“I’m not being picky!” Dante grumbled. “I just don’t think it’ll light it! Why don’t you make fire?”

“Because we’re too far and I’m not going any closer!” Tess snapped.

“Oh come on, we just killed a major demon, you’re afraid of a little blast? You said you can control it!” Dante said, shrugging.

Tess growled. “I like to be secure, thank you!”

Dante grumbled and aimed, then fired off a couple of shots. The bullets clanged against metal and bounced around a couple of times...but no fire.

“There. I shot. No fire,” Dante huffed.

Tess stared. “I don’t get it, that place is full of fumes. It should’ve gone up like that...”

Dante, puzzled as much as she was, scratched the side of his head with the muzzle of one of his guns. “I guess...”

“It probably needs a bigger spark!” they heard Roy shout from further back.

The two looked at each other momentarily. The building shook suddenly with a quiet rumbling, making them look at it warily.

“That gestalt thing’s not down, right?” Dante said.

“Nope...” Tess gulped. “Okay, let’s assume Roy’s right; that probably didn’t even spark enough to light a cigarette...”

Dante frowned. “Oh come on—“

“How about that thing you did when you shot blasts out of the guns?” she suggested.

“Charged shots?” Dante huffed. “That’s demonic energy, I don’t think it’d light—“

He paused and then grinned. “It could work. Twig, you gotta charge my guns with fire. My shot will magnify the fire!”

Tess seemed hesitant for a moment. “Are you sure? Dante...this is still a new thing for you. If you screw it up... it’ll backfire...”

Another small tremor made them tense. A cracking sound came from the structure and a board from one of the windows flew off as if something had smashed against it from the inside.

Dante figured that if it had worked with his sword, it’d work for the guns. “We’ll be fine. Hold on to my wrists and charge my guns.”

“If we blow up, it’ll be your fault,” she muttered, grabbing his wrists and they absently pressed against each other.

She recited a spell out loud but Dante was focusing too much to try and interpret it in his head. He grit his teeth, feeling the fire she was giving him travel up his arms and settling in his chest, from where it expanded through the rest of his body. The guns lit up with a red- orange surge of energy that crackled on them like kidling. Tess half-shut her eyes and turned away a little as it grew brighter.

“Ready?” he muttered to her.

She gave a slightly nervous nod.

He felt the warmth of her hands on his cold wrists. Funny enough for once, it was his hands that were cold. It strangely made him at ease. The building over their heads shuddered again. From the opening they had run out through, they could both see them, that horrible mass of tormented souls that haunted the place, surging around and drawn by the two of them, about to burst out.

He spoke again, very gently, “On my mark.”

He paused a second, his face close to hers as she stood beside him, so close that he could smell the sweat of fright and exhaustion on her.

“Three." She drew in a shaky breath.

His heart beat faster, the entire scene getting to him. “Two.” Her hands trembled with anticipation.

He found it hard to concentrate but holding the charge in his guns came naturally to him now. Tess trembled, breathing in brief pants.

“One.”

He smirked and his senses tingled with excitement. “Jackpot!” he said, pressing the triggers.

For both of them it felt like they were letting go of a massive weight at the end of a rope. All the pressurised fire blasted forth like a pair of blinding flares and Dante swore he heard Roy blurt an amused laugh from below them while Tess yelped. The kick from the two shots was powerful enough to throw both their arms up and Tess pulled hers back and shook them vigorously with a painful wince.

A thunderous boom echoed through the barely day-broken sky. The two bullets left flaming streaks of red that danced in their wake. They flew right into the opening, illuminating the darkness as they went. The rest of it happened very fast; the first thing they saw was the flash, a blinding light coming from the opening of the boiler room. Dante grabbed her by the waist and they pulled away in a hurry when the thrust-wave came along. It hit with a deafening roar and jolted them, followed by the blasting roar of the exploding gas fuel and the flame-tongues, lashing out in the wake of the eruption.

The flames jumped out the opening and then erupted through shattering windows, breaking the boards nailed on them. The fire was about to reach them, but Tess flung her arm up in a commanding gesture.

“Go back inside,” she muttered between clenched teeth. “Along the piping, the walls--anything, burn this _damn_ place down!”

The fire retreated back into the building, without touching them, at her command. It needed little help anyway. Dante could picture flames, little better than sparks, traveling along gasoline puddles, across the fumes and disused heating pipes, along gas piping of kitchens and medical halls, setting everything alight. Any combustible material caught fire immediately with explosive force. He could picture any straggler demon still in there become incinerated from the sheer force of the firestorm that raged through the building. The brunt of the blast was contained within the thick walls of the former prison, with only chunks of outter bricks and glass from the windows flying off the building.

Roy climbed up the small hill near the kids. He looked strangely pleased and chuckled, his hands on his waist.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he chortled. “Hear that?” he said, holding up his hand with his finger pointed up, slightly to his ear.

They heard the distinct sound of crumbling structure, loud crashes and thuds, ear-piercing creaking and groaning, one after the other like dominoes, all came from the building as it started to sag.

“That’s called…structural supports saying _adieu,_ permanently, hehehe,” Roy cackled.

 Large tongues of fire and thick black smoke began to spew out of windows and doors as a blazing inferno worthy of Hell was consuming the wretched building. When it started collapsing, Dante let go of Tess and they both backed up against Roy to look up at the burning building. Dante’d never seen a building go up in flames so fast or so aggressively before and felt a little vindication watching that Mad God’s former Babylon go down like that.  

 

The flames swallowed the building up and as the structure kept failing more and more, further collapses taking place, it began to crumble. It was slow at first, but the building seemed to sink into the ground slowly, one bit at a time. A wall collapsed here, a ledge fell off there and a bit of it would crumble inwards every now and then. Suddenly most of the building's structure collapsed into itself with a loud roaring sound. Most of the structure fell inwards, collapsing into itself, sending up a huge billow of smoke and embers soaring up. Tess grabbed Dante's arm and pulled him along her to a hurried retreat from the asylum, wit Roy following them wearily. Looking back, they saw a strange haze hover upwards from the collapsing building along with the smoke.

“Look,” Tess said calmly, pointing at the haze. “The gestalt, it’s dissipating. Roy was right. The destruction of the building must have severed whatever ties kept them here.”

Dante believed her, even though all he could see were just odd shapes pushing through the smoke. “Well, guess that’s another plus strike on my karma, eh? Saving dead people.”

Tess chuckled, leaning against his shoulder.

Feeling that his job was complete, all Dante wanted was to leave that place with her and Roy. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

She nodded in agreement, looking a little pale. They turned and with Roy following them, walked briskly out of the premises of the asylum’s grounds and into the city. Dawn was just breaking and the city basked in the morning chill and dew. Even then Dante could tell that their act had a profound effect on the city. It felt…lighter, somehow, like a weight had been peeled back from it. The air felt cold but crisp and unfallingly sweet.

Roy draped his hands on their shoulders. “Very well done, getting a message through,” he chuckled. “I bet there're neon signs in Hell now; _we got our ass kicked by kids_. Oh the irony. Have I mentioned that you two are beginning to scare me, pipsqueaks?"

Tess cringed. “Pipsqueaks?!” she muttered.

 “Aw that’s payback for callin’ him old and stuff,” Dante laughed. But he wasn’t completely satisfied and his mind was weighed down.

“So, old man…” Dante started. “Is it safe to say…I mean, d’you think you guys may not have to go away if…I can look out for her?”

Tess became very quiet and shrugged defensively, while Roy looked down and away with a sad look. Right as her hand slipped away from his, Dante knew the answer to his question and his heart sank. Suddenly he was beside himself; that feeling of comfort and human contact that living with them had subtly accustomed him to, would be gone. He hadn’t experienced such warmth since the loss of his family. And now…he had to relive it?

For a while these people had made him feel like he belonged and now this was going to disappear. He would have to go back to wandering; an outcast among humans.He turned his back to the djinn and Tess, leaning on the fence surrounding the former asylum. He hung his head.

He grumbled. “Great. Just _fucking_ great. We start getting along and you’re going to just vanish on me—“

Tess chased after him as he strode aside. “Wait! Dante, I'm sorry. I really am!” she said, turning him around. “I don't want to leave either. I knew they'd make me choose, Dante, I know how they think!” she added, and the anguish in her tone made him look up and glare at her.

“Then why—“

“I couldn't tell you because that would ruin everything!” she cut in. “They have ways of finding out everything. Please try to understand, if I stayed they'd never have it! They're strange, Dante, the same coven that kicked my grandad and my mother out—they want me back. They'd drag me off by force if they had to," she said.

Dante was up in flames. He felt angrier and more frustrated by the minute. “You don't get it! You're not in my shoes, so stop trying to make me feel better!”

He got in her face. “All this time... with you, I made _everything_ about you. Everything...even the goddamn teasing. I broke you out of your little ice fortress, I got to I know how you really are... And I like what I see in you. I guess I was just kidding myself when I thought you’d see something in me.” He smacked his hand against the wall. “And now as soon as I think you do, you’re gonna run off with it. I feel so _fucking used_!”

He felt his eyes sting and glaze over, so he turned away before Tess could see.

She yanked him back around angrily. “No, you listen to me! I _know,_ alright!? Do you think I’m blind? But you don't know those—those maniac covenants! Listen. If I stay, if I expose you to those freaks, they'd _never_ leave you alone. They hate demons. It makes no difference if you're Sparda's son, for them Sparda is _dead_! They don’t care who you are, they won’t—they won’t give you any respect. And trust me, believe me on this, you'll never be able to handle an entire coven of wiccans, they're just...they can be evil, Dante, their schemes and their stuck-up laws! And—And I can't let you be sucked into that insane world!" She ranted. She turned over to Roy. “Tell him!” she pleaded.

Roy shook his head. “She's telling the truth, Dante. The wiccans of the Rosengard coven are not a lot you want to mess with. If they don't kill you, they'll just manipulate you into a puppet for their own stupid machinations. You don't get it, do you? She's trying to _protect_ you, you little moron,” he said sharply. “She and I stand some hope of not being subjugated entirelly, because they need Tess in their ranks now. But you hold no importance to them. They’d separate you anyway. It’s too late to go back on our deal now. If you try to fight them, they’ll break you. If not, you’ll just be making needless enemies and tarnish the legacy you’re carrying—not to mention make them resent Tess. I don't want to see any of that happen, because I've got some goddamn respect for you and I'm certain that the same goes for Tess!”

She panted angrily, staring at him. “I knew this was going to happen, because we're a fucked up wiccan family, we're cursed! I read it in the damn Tarot, I knew it when that stupid Three of Swords turned up, it meant that this—this would end. I’d lose you. Do you think I liked it?! I didn't tell you because I was trying to _stop it_ from happening! You dumbass!” she went on, weakly punching his chest and letting her fists rest there, hanging her head. “I tried—but I didn't know how and things came to this! I couldn't change this! It’s always been like this for me, knowing bad things were gonna happen and yet failing to stop them, over and over—this topped it off! Don't you get it, I don't want to go!”

She leaned onto his chest and started crying, unable to contain herself any longer. She squeezed him in her hug and let tears flow down her face, not wanting to let go of him. He let a drawn breath, looking down at her.

“You're right about everything,” she sobbed. “You _did_ change me. You turned my life upside down—and I'm so glad you did. Being alone is like a hole and you don't know how lonely you've been...till someone comes along and pulls you out of it. And then you don't realize how good that feels until somebody lets go,” she went on, looking up at him with a pitiful look. “Now I've got to let go and you have no idea how much it hurts hitting the bottom again. I'm getting scared all over again; that I'm going to live and then die all alone. Not even the demons can scare me now, but that can.”

Dante bit his lip. He wanted to pretend that everything they said wasn’t affecting him but it was and it made him angry...but it hardly seemed to matter. He stubbornly responded to her embrace and squeezed her close, biting his lip again and trying to stop himself from crying, even as a tear welled up in his eye. He was far from crying...but not as far as he wanted.

“Dammit, Tess,” he grunted.

“If I let go of you now, I'll be sure you’re going to be safe and go on to be that fucking awesome guy you're turning into. I hate calling you a jerk because it’s a lie. You're—dammit, you’re weird, being Prince Charming and the Rolling Stones rolled in one and I don't want you to change. I don't want to let those--those bastards ruin you. You helped me, you protected me from all this crap and now I've got to protect you from that stupid, narrow-minded mob that's my world. I have to, Dante, nothing you can say will change that. Just please, for God's sake, don't make it any harder on me.”

She broke down, unable to talk anymore, just holding on to him like she wanted to become part of him, and crying.

Roy sighed, running his hand over his face and putting his hand on Dante’s shoulder. “It’s the truth, Dante. We’re trying to make sure here you’re _both_ safe. Please...just trust us.”

Despite their explanations, Dante stubbornly refused to accept it, shaking his head and feeling that he couldn’t control his tears anymore. “Why do you guys have to go? We could be fine... We’d set up a business hunting demons. Nothing’d stop us...” he muttered. “Hell, I’d even let you pick the name, Twig...”

Tess choked a little laugh and Roy forced a why smile, and Dante felt the old man’s hand on his shoulder give him a soothing squeeze.

“That’d be a hell of a time, son...” he muttered quietly. “Hell of a time...”

Deep down he understood what she meant. He always knew his life would be plagued by demons, they’d never leave him alone. And judging by what he’d learned so far, now they’d never leave her alone either. She wasn’t ready for this kind of life yet. Sure she had Roy to look after her, but surely even he couldn’t keep all of them safe for very long, especially if they had to cater for the added threat of disgruntled wiccans. Splitting up was the only sensible solution. At least that way they’d keep one side of the deadly equation from being a problem. She had to protect him from the wiccans just like he’d felt the need to keep people at a distance, to protect them from his demonic heritage.

“How much time do we have?” he asked, trying not to think of wild alternative solutions.

Roy stared blankly at the ground and shook his head.  “Not long. She has to be there by tomorrow. I managed to keep your presence here a secret; for now. They don't know about you—and never will, not from Tess, nor me. Dante...my boy, I'm so terribly sorry,” he said, head hung low. Dante believe him and felt frustratingly helpess. “It’s a sad reality, but this was never about you and Tess—it’s about clashing worlds. You two are going to have to be parted for a long time. I can't tell how long—I can't even think about it. You can't even know where we're going, like we're never to know where you are.”

Dante grumbled a curse and refused to let go of Tess. Roy’s explanation made him all the more willing to hold her for as long as he could before losing his friend.

“Now...listen here.”

There was that old reserved confidence and nearly fatherly warmth in Roy’s voice again; Dante was certain he’d miss hearing it, despite Roy’s preachy attitude.

“You’ve proven that you’re strong and skilled; your worth and your power in the face of the Underworld. You stand a better chance now because you're a threat to them. Tess is still a target. She'd never make it—as she is. It’s a stupid, delicate balance. They need her, because she's the last of the Templar family, one of Rosengard's founders. She needs their organized coven to hide. Not just from demons. Her sight Dante, the very thing this all started about, its going to cause worse problems.”

“And I don't want you burdened with _my_ problems!" Tess managed to say, looking up at last. She was crying very much. “I've caused you enough trouble to last you a lifetime. I've got to take some control of my frickin' life, even if it’s this stupid thing.”

He shook his head. “Problems? Anything your problem is my problem too, Twig,” he told her sharply.

She put up her hands and cupped his face. “No. Not this one. You’ve done enough for me; I promise—we'll meet again. I don't care what it takes, but we will,” she muttered, stroking his cheek tenderly. “Dammit, I'll miss out all the cool stuff you're going to be doing.”

He smiled stiffly. “You’re tellin’ me to trust a witch’s promise?” he said bitterly.

She took her hands off his face and fiddled with the necklace she'd been wearing since the day he first saw her: a hand-crafted silver cross with a black gem set in the middle, hanging from a thick black string. She tugged at his hand and made his fist close around the cross.

"This is my promise. My dad made this for my mom and I want you to hold on to it for me. I'm going to come find you and I'll want it back. So don't ever lose it, please. If you do—I'll punch your teeth out. Got it?” she said a bit sharply.

Dante stared her in the eyes as she spoke to him, silently wondering when the next time he'd get to gaze into those endless green hues again. He nodded silently to her, another tear escaping his eyes. He nearly hated that she was making him hang on to something this precious for her.

“Look at you, crying already. Don't do that,” she said softly, putting up a hand and wiping his tears. “I'm crying enough for both.”

“I’m not crying—“ he protested. “Demons don’t cry.”

“Yeah, neither do witches,” she replied weakly.

Roy blurted a depressed grunt. “Oh for pity’s sake, come here you two!” he grumbled and suddenly seized both teenagers in a two-armed hug. “I’m going to bloody miss seeing you two together...” he grumbled.

Dante couldn't help a lopsided smile as the djinn pulled them into an embrace. Tess choked a sob and rubed her face against his tattered shirt.

Roy let go at last and stared directly at Dante. “I've got some last advice—“

Dante sulked. “Aw come on man, don’t ruin the moment—“

“No, no, this is for your thick skull, boy," Roy said with affectionate roughness as Dante rolled his eyes. “I know how you feel about your demon side. But get this in your head, kid! Mankind has more things in common with demons than they like to fancy. You saw for yourself, how these madmen turned into demons. The thin line that separates man from demon can get blurred too easily,” he said, staring the teenager in the eye. “I’m trying to tell you that what separates you from demons isn't mundane little things like mortality or power, neither ephemeral things like love and sorrow and pity,” the djinn said sharply.

Roy grabbed him by the shoulders softly and smiled a little wryly. “Fact is, you’re different from demons because know _regret_. Demons don't know regret and never will know how powerful it is. Regret makes you step over limitations. And demons don't know squat about it. I feel kind of sorry for them, surprisingly. So keep your head together. I don't want you dying on me now, I plan on seeing you again and when I do I'll expect to hear good things— _only_. No screw-ups.”

Dante smirked a little, at the djinn’s request. “You got it, old man. Take care of yourself, Fuzzball. And thanks...for everything! Now gimmie some damn privacy!”

Roy stared at him, then blurted a roar of laughter and smacked Dante’s shoulder affectionately and nodded. He stepped away, unwinding the bandage around his head, ostensibly to redress his eye wound.

Dante glanced around warily for a moment. “Listen Tess, because I’m never saying this kinda stuff again,” he started, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “I’m glad you ended up alright, Twig. We took down that freak stalkin’ you, you're a little more social and you _can_ fight. I’m...I’m gonna miss ya and I guess I should—“

Before he could finish she stepped right up to him, reached up on her toes, put her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him, silencing him in the most acceptble way he could think of. It was different from the first one he stole and the second one they shared; this one she gave him. She pressed her lips on the side of his mouth, as if she wasn't sure whether to kiss his cheek or his lips. Then she pulled back, like a quiet butterfly fluttering between resting spots and paused on his lips. It was soft but weighted down by that bitter sweet sense of separation.

“You don’t need to say it,” she said with a smile. “You’re not good at mushy talk.”

He groaned a little. “Thanks, Tess...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t forget you now.”

She chuckled a little and poked his stomach. “I can’t forget you either. Take it easy with the pizza and the ice-cream, I don't want to come back to find you’ve gotten tubby,” she said in a reluctant way.

“And you put on some meat on your bones...” he replied in kind.

“Tess...” Roy said miserably. “It’s time.”

Dante clicked his tongue and Tess stared at her shoes. “Dante...Do me a last favour, please. Turn now and walk away. I'll do too. Turn and go to the building. Your stuff is all there; I made Roy salvage them for you. But please...walk away as I do and _don't look back_. If you look back, it’s going to be a goodbye. I don't want the last thing you remember of me, is me leaving, alright?”

He grumbled a little at her request. He knew that if she hadn’t asked he might as well have spent the entire time watching her walk away and probably even lose his cool and run after her regardless. This was better, showing just how much she knew him.

He nodded at her request. “See you later, Twig,” he muttered, turning around and starting a slow pace towards the street.

“See you around, Dante,” she replied and he heard her turn as well. Her voice had been shaking.

He started walking away, staring blankly ahead of him at the growing light of dawn as it crept over the city skyline. He was forcing himself not to pay attention the sounds that might give away she was gone, but he did anyway. It wasn’t something he could define; it just happened. From one moment to the next he knew she was gone. He whipped around and saw nothing but an empty street.

He swallowed down his feelings and turned again and went on his way. He felt himself walking mechanically, but his mind wasn’t in it. He was picking up the pieces of himself now. He failed to notice the silence had broken, as if a spell placed on the city was breaking apart. People were in the streets; sirens of police cars and fire engines were heading towards the still burning asylum. He scoffed a little at that. He just kept walking, his hands in his pockets. It was a solid half hour before he got back there, where it all had started.

It was dead in the morning when he stopped in front of the wrecked building. He looked up at it. He could see the window that had once been Tess’ room. He looked away from it abruptly and trudged inside, feeling emptier than the building was.

He smirked a bit, finding his few belongings packed and ready to go, where Roy’s counter had once stood. A note was pinned on his rucksack and he picked it up to read it; Roy’s handwriting. He chuckled, reading the two lines. Roy left him a bundle of cash and a threat about ‘keeping his rear end out of trouble’.

 _Typical Roy,_ he thought, reading the last line. _‘Godspeed, Dante’_.

He was ready to go, really. His sword was on his back, his guns tucked into his pants. He picked the backpack up, hauled it over his shoulder and absently looked back into the complex. His thoughts wandered to the time he got here.

He saw Roy sitting on the front desk, doing paperwork; Magda sailing morbidly through the hallway, indignant but accepting. Tess’ gaze pierced his back from the front door as she leaned against it. Her sly, witty smile was taunting him.

That memory was safely hidden away, right where his mother’s face, her smile and her tender humming was left. It was incredible, yet very depressing.

The slayer hung his head with an amused grin, turned and then walked out the door and down the steps, joining people that were walking down the street in their morning business. No one seemed to notice the building, not even him.

 _Funny,_ he thought.

The city’s savior walked among them and they didn’t even notice. They never would, anyway. He put his hand in his pocket.

He smiled a bit, feeling the small silver cross in there. _Better bring me some luck, Twig,_ he thought, strolling down the street. _Now…where can a guy like me find a place to crash in and open a demon-huntin’ business?_

**THE END.**


End file.
